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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26838349">Tyler</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pr_squared/pseuds/pr_squared'>pr_squared</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tales of the Hunt [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>No Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cannibalism, F/M, Hunters &amp; Hunting, Woman on Top, meat paradox</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:29:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>26,961</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26838349</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pr_squared/pseuds/pr_squared</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
      <p>Still completing my Goblin tales.</p><p>Bamboladigiada expressed an interest in these older tales of the Hunt - alluded to in Mikey<br/>Like Mikey, Tea Biscuit, and Rainbow Falls, are set after "Things Changed."</p><p>Several parts: Tyler's Last Hunt, Just One of the Guys, Smooth Operator, and Halloween</p>
    </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tales of the Hunt [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1970527</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Tyler's Last Hunt: 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bamboladigiada/gifts">Bamboladigiada</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Still completing my Goblin tales.</p><p>Bamboladigiada expressed an interest in these older tales of the Hunt - alluded to in Mikey<br/>Like Mikey, Tea Biscuit, and Rainbow Falls, are set after "Things Changed."</p><p>Several parts: Tyler's Last Hunt, Just One of the Guys, Smooth Operator, and Halloween</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ranger Amanda Rogers looked at her clipboard and frowned. She added up the latest tally from each checkpoint and added them up again.  The afternoon was growing late on this, the third day of the Hunt and the harvest was well behind schedule.  She looked up from her figures and nodded to Kim Durham.  They would have to go out in the 4 x 4 again this year.</p><p>Just then, Stephanie Rogers, Amanda’s twelve year-old niece, returned breathless.  Her eyes were wide with excitement. Although Stephanie, her mother, Michelle, and Aunty-Manty, as she called her Aunt from the first days that she could speak, often picnicked and hiked at Red Lake Reservoir, this was her first visit on a Hunt Day. The preserve usually offered a quiet place to enjoy nature in solitude.  However, in late summer and early fall the place was alive with activity as one three-day Hunt session was staged each week.  </p><p>The staging area saw the hunters return to register their kills and swap their tales of the ones who got away.  Stephanie was twelve and too young to hunt.  However, this year, Stephanie saw the hunters, their equipment, and their quarry up close. Overwhelmed with excitement, she opened her mouth to speak.  No sound emerged as a great rush of impressions and observations literally stopped traffic as each raced to be first out of her mouth. She was speechless.  This was even more exciting than television.</p><p>Amanda smiled at her niece’s excitement.  She had a job for Stephanie to do.  Stephanie had wanted to go out in the field, and this was to be her chance.</p><p>Stephanie eagerly collected every pizza box available at the site and the remnants of every half-eaten pizza.  She piled them all in the back of the Hummer.  Even the PET”M table had lent her their empty boxes and half-eaten crusts although it was doubtful that the People for the Ethical Treatment of Males would approve of their purpose.  She had heard Aunty –Manty’s tales, and scoffed, but now she would see for herself.</p><p>Kim was the best caller among the Rangers on duty.  She took off her shoes and socks and sat in the back of the 4 x 4 wrapped in the long rain slicker, over her blouse and shorts - ready to work.</p><p>The 4-wheel drive pickup truck pushed a quarter mile into the woods along the most rudimentary trial, and then stopped.  Kim stood up on the back seat in the midst of a pile of pizza boxes and lifted the microphone to her lips.  “I’ve got pizza!” she called out with remarkably good sound quality.  “And I’m all naked underneath!  Anyone interested in a live nude girl?” She waited a few seconds. She flashed the slicker open, stuck out a bare leg, pulled it back, and promptly wrapped herself tightly shut again - all in an instant.  They all waited for a response.  Finding none, they drove a way up the crude dirt trail.”</p><p>They did this again and again, struggling to maintain their composure, swallowing their laughter.   </p><p>After  three or four stops, Kim called out and – believe it or not - a man answered, “Are you really naked?” a male voice called from hiding.   Stephanie covered her face with her hand to keep from laughing and almost choked.</p><p>“Come and see - baby!” Kim grinned and answered.  “You aren’t afraid of the real thing – are you?”</p><p>“Cheese pizza or pepperoni?” The voice now had a form, as a naked man or jack emerged from hiding.  The purpose of the hunt was to limit male numbers, which in turn   had ended millennia of  male-inspired violence, crime, and war, by culling the male population so that only the best survived to father the next generation.  Every male, with a few exceptions, had to endure a three-day Hunt each of three summers after his eighteenth birthday.  About one in ten survived and was awarded nearly full rights of citizenship.</p><p>Kim looked down and looked over the boxes thoughtfully.  “Plenty of both, I think,” she said brightly. “What’s your pleasure?”</p><p>The befuddled creature approached, grinning ear to ear.  His long day was almost over and he was both bored and hungry – hungry in the way that only a teenage boy could be hungry.  The sex drive in young males was unrelenting too.  He had meticulously avoided hunters all day for almost three days and was more than ready to relax and claim his reward. The opportunity to satisfy both his appetites at once was irresistible.  </p><p>Amanda kept both hands on the steering wheel where he could see them.   Stephanie saw him and waved. His hirsute, angular frame looked completely alien to the young girl.  The jack waved back, happy as a clam.  The presence of the young girl – obviously too young to be hunting – reassured him.  He stopped about 10 yards from the Hummer.  “Pepperoni, I think.   Show me your stuff!”</p><p>Kimmie flashed him her shyest smile and hesitated modestly.  In one fluid motion, she shrugged the slicker off her right shoulder, swung up her carbine and shot him in the head.  Underneath, she wore her Ranger’s grab.  In the summer, Rangers wore short sleeved blouses and shorts.  Underneath that, her underclothes and underneath that, she was truly as naked as the day she was born – just as she had promised - except perhaps for her belly button ring.</p><p>Amanda rolled the jack onto his back with some effort.  He outweighed her by a fair amount.  She straddled him and prepared to gut him.  Stephanie watched her with interest.  “I really can’t believe it.  He’s our fourth one today and I still can’t believe it.”</p><p>“Kim’s just too damned good!” Amanda responded as she tied off his penis so that he wouldn’t lose his urine.</p><p>“Luckily, for us, they’re not too bright. Look!   “Damn it!”  Kim cursed, her rougher unaffected voice contrasting strikingly with her sweet, modulated calling voice.  “I’m losing my touch.  This’s my worst shot today – a full two centimeters to the left and one “cee-em” below the center. That raincoat is just awkward – too damned hot and too damned uncomfortable.”  Kim spread the jack’s legs widely and then lifted them up, bending him double at the waist. </p><p>Amanda shook her head.  “The raincoat is traditional.”  She knelt beside him and drew her Janie knife thoughtfully.   Methodically, she cut a deep circle around his exposed anus, grabbed the bloody end, and tied off his bung.</p><p>“Aunty-Manty, do you think it’s really lying?” Stephanie asked as she handed her Aunt the tie.</p><p>“What?” Amanda answered as she pulled the scrotum taut with her left hand and severed it cleanly with the knife in her right.</p><p>“Our Girl Scout leader says that lying is bad.  Do you think that we’re lying when we trick the jacks like that?”</p><p>Amanda inverted the scrotal sac over her fist and scooped out the testicles which she deposited in one plastic bag, with the testicles of the other three jacks and deposited the sac in a second bag.  “Lying is certainly bad but what exactly is a lie, Stephanie?” she asked rhetorically</p><p>“A lie is saying something that isn’t true.”</p><p>“Like a wrong answer on a history test?” Amanda queried..</p><p>“No, not exactly.  A lie is saying something that isn’t true when you know isn’t true when you say it.” Stephanie answered.</p><p>“That’s what I think.” Amanda continued.  “Kim told the truth – the truth precisely.  We have pizza and Kim is naked – at least under her clothes.  It wasn’t even a white lie.”  Amanda pulled on the pubic hair and tented the skin.  Carefully, she slipped her blade under the skin and extended her cut from the pubis up to the breastbone, leaving the muscles underneath untouched.</p><p>“See!” Kim contributed pulling up her shirt and exposing her bare midriff. “I’m no liar - really!”</p><p>“Think about it,” Stephanie continued.  “Well, what you said was true – at least the way that you interpret it.  But you knew that our poor friend here would hear something different – in fact – you said what you said what you said just because you hoped that the poor dumb bugger would interpret it exactly the way that he did – the wrong way.”  Stephanie concluded with a bit of satisfaction.</p><p>Amanda sighed.  Her niece was twelve years old and entering her teenage years.   When she was fourteen, she could hunt herself.  She was making that great and uncomfortable leap in moral sensitivity. “You know, there’s something to what you say,” Amanda admitted as she opened his belly, taking care to avoid puncturing his bowels.  “You know though,” she continued, as she sawed through the cartilage on either side of the breastbone. “We’ve got a job to do – to keep down male numbers and protect the gene pool,” Amanda threw the breastbone into the brush and reached up into the neck to secure the windpipe and esophagus. “This guy wouldn’t have contributed much!”</p><p>Meanwhile, Kim, working on his other end, cut a circle around the base of the penis.  Amanda began to peel the organs from their attachments.  “Stephanie, We’re simply not responsible for all the stupidity in the world.  Next time, what if I say, ‘I’m naked and I’ve got a six pack.’”   Amanda pulled the penis up through the pelvis and succeeded in eviscerating the carcass in one piece, except for some scraps of diaphragm.</p><p>“I could use a six pack myself,” Kim contributed.  “This raincoat is hot and sticky.”</p><p>Stephanie looked into the bag that held the four penises.  “I wonder how these poor buggers walked around with these things and don’t pinch themselves between their legs or trip over them. Everyone laughed.  The three were still laughing when they dumped the gutted carcass in the back with the other three.</p><p>Tyler Thomas watched to proceedings from hiding.  He had a good vantage point but he was unable to hear everything.  Ryan Wright – the name of the poor fellow from his school who now lay gutted in the back of the pickup was some sort of asshole –  a likeable asshole  but really an asshole. Ryan liked pizza and he swore that he could smell a funky pussy one point six kilometers away.   Today – the third day – the hunt was almost over.  Ryan could have survived.  He just blew it.  </p><p>Tyler – on the other hand - would survive.  He had carefully avoided hunters all day. He had stayed close to one party of hunters but undetected, knowing that hunters usually stay spread out and avoid the ground just searched by others.  Hiding and moving had a certain rhythm that had come more naturally to him than to others.  Neither was he likely to lose everything in a sudden fit of stupidity like Ryan.  Tyler hid and stayed hidden until the final horn sounded - and then a bit longer still.  Only then, he allowed himself a moment’s relaxation and began to consider the consequences of surviving his third and final Hunt.  Soon a third ring would join his two earrings and he would earn the most of the rights of citizenship.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Tyler's Last Hunt: 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The siren sounded.  Tired and relieved, Tyler staggered out of the woods and entered the staging area warily.  Around him, hunters were preparing their kills for transport home, lashed to car roofs or dumped in the back of 4x4’s.  He knew that he might find friends and acquaintances among the dead and chose not to look too carefully.</p><p>Suddenly, a cheerful voice called out, “Congratulations!” Tyler looked up. First, he saw the immaculate cross training shoes. Then he saw the ragged jeans and then the PET’M sweatshirt surmounted by a pleasant smiling face crowned by a head of medium length brown hair.  “My name is Alicia,” she said and held out her hand.</p><p>By reflex, Tyler held out his right hand in response before he realized that he was naked.  His drawn features suddenly softened under the warmth of her friendly smile. In the Hunt, males were naked and that was the way that things were done.  However, now the Hunt was over and he was still alive.</p><p>In the old days, a woman might be naked or near naked with little comment, except admiration of her ineluctable eroticism and sympathy for any assumed embarrassment.  However, male nudity was totally unacceptable.  A single male could terrify a score otherwise healthy and mentally stable women into abject paralysis simply by threatening to expose his male apparatus. Now, male parts no longer elicited terror but rather signified male vulnerability.  The traditional male costume – suit coat, pants, and tie – was seen as too threatening – on a male.  Males, who wore suits, reminded people of the bad old days. Male dress varied between the complete coverage of the caftan and the near nudity of the thong.  A few pushed the envelop with total nudity.</p><p>Alicia called to her friends who brought Tyler a blanket, a bottle of water, and a doughnut.  Tyler wrapped himself in a blanket against the evening chill. Then she grabbed Tyler’s hand and set out to find a Ranger to register his success. An eighteen year-old entering in his first Hunt was termed a calfe, a brocket into his second year, and a spayard in his third.  Tyler was now a stag.  He had survived all three years. </p><p>Walking through the site, Tyler saw others emerging from the Ranger’s tent, brockets who had survived their first hunt, spayards who had survived their second hunt and stags who had survived their third hunt. All boasted new rings, the brockets, one ring and spayards two rings.   They waited for transport back to Camp Stanton for two days of debriefing, and only then would they be free until next year. Tyler had survived his third hunt and earned a third ring.</p><p>The Ranger made a notation and then directed Tyler to the station where a nurse congratulated him. She pierced his left ear and inserted his third ring. He had survived three Hunts and he was done with it.  She reminded him of his new obligation to open an account at the Sperm Bank and make bimonthly deposits in exchange for a 50% tax reduction. Tyler stood in line for the pay phone, only to discover that he had no change.  Alicia was still there and offered him her cell phone.  Tyler called home and his mother’s joy almost brought him to tears. He promised to come home in the morning.</p><p>Tyler saw his friend Zack lying on one of the cots. Zack was injured but he had survived too. He gave him the thumb-up sign. Zack looked too beaten up and too weak for any more boisterous display of relief, but he was grinning from ear to ear.</p><p>The previous two years, Tyler had had to return to the hated Camp for debriefing. This year, he was a citizen and, he could do as he wished. He was tired. He had not had a good night’s sleep in his two nights in the preserve. Even a shower could wait until morning. He really didn’t want to go home just yet and find out how many of his friends hadn’t survived.  Alicia suggested that he crash at her place and go home in the morning, once all the papers were signed and official.<br/>Sitting in the car beside Alicia wrapped in a blanket, the world simply looked different.  He hadn’t minded at all carrying Alicia’s bulky package wrapped in a brown wrapping paper to the trunk.  His ear burned vaguely, but the mild discomfort did not diminish his elation and pride in his third ring.</p><p>Alicia drove him to town and led him up to the apartment that she shared with her roommates, Nichole and Madison. He walked behind her, carrying her package.  She had him deposit it on the kitchen table and then offered him a snack. Tyler was so tired he refused.  His refusal surprised even himself.  He was always ready to eat.  He even took a pass on a shower, despite the temptation of warm water after the cold-water showers at Camp Stanton.  It could wait till morning too.  He just wanted to sleep.  He was physically and emotionally exhausted.  Tyler was more than grateful when she showed him the guest room. </p><p>Her guest room was far superior to the pen that he shared with twenty others at Camp Stanton. Gratefully, he slipped into bed, a real bed and not simply a thin but somehow still lumpy mat lying on the hard floor. The fold-out bed was luxurious and the linens, clean, fragrant with lilac, and cold and smooth against his bare skin. The toilet was conventional too, and not a squatter. Tyler closed his eyes and slept even before Alicia flipped off the light. </p><p>Cold. Cold and dark. Cold, dark, and quiet. As quiet as the grave except for a steady background throbbing and a faint whisper of frigid air. Cold, dark, and quiet. Cold and dark. Cold.</p><p>A latched clicked. The sound of a door opening was followed by a glimmer of light and then by a rush of light suffusing the darkness. Cold. So cold as to freeze the moisture in your breath. Tyler hung head down by his ankles. He simply could not move. His arms hung limply, his fingertips just brushed the floor. He could not turn his head, but staring straight ahead, he saw other shapes, vaguely defined in the shadowy light. </p><p>Two figures entered his field of vision –  bundled warmly against the bitter cold.  He was stark naked. Their exposed skin was pink against his deathly pallor. They spouted great clouds of moisture-laden air against his profound stillness. Brilliant white crystals emerged from the opalescent mist. </p><p>"This one?" one inquired. Her voice was distinguished only by its absolute ordinariness. A hand reached out and touched Tyler’s flank. He longed desperately for a warm touch, but felt nothing.</p><p>"No, this one first," a another voice answered. Tyler saw a third figure, one of about a dozen hanging head down like himself – a male from the shape of his hips and ass. His sex parts were nowhere in evidence.  A thin trickle of congealed blood made a red smear running from between his bare buttocks and down his back. His pale white skin was smooth and hairless.  Tyler saw only the back of his head; he could not see his face.</p><p>The first woman called for a heavy-bladed Janie knife. First, she pulled up on the male’s hair and extended the red gash that had opened his throat. With a strong sawing motion, she cut through the skin, muscles, and ligaments at the back of his neck. Then, she sheathed her knife and grabbed the head by the ears. With an unladylike grunt, she twisted hard. Tyler could hear the popping noise as the head came free and fell to the floor, ignored and discarded.</p><p>The arms were cut at the elbow with a saw and then the arms were disarticulated at the shoulder with the wing bones attached. The carcass was rotated. Headless, the carcass hardly resembled anything human.   Now Tyler could see the bloody gash that marked the place where the genitals had been and the gaping wound that opened the hog-dressed carcass, neck to pelvis. The deep red flesh contrasted with the white bone and yellow-white solidified fat. The woman exchanged her knife for an electric saw and cut through the back of the pelvis and then along either side of the spine, halving the pelvis. The two halves separated, each hanging by its ankle and each twisting slowly on its chain. </p><p>The woman took a step back and bumped into Tyler, who swung a bit around. He now could see the discarded head resting on its crown and facing him. The face was clearly his friend Ryan’s. The eyes stared blankly and the muscles of the face were drawn and unmoving. The mouth was open and the tongue lolled out. The lips did not move, but Tyler heard Ryan’s swaggering voice call out his usual greeting, "Hey, bud! I’m really an asshole!"</p><p> Tyler awoke in shear panic. The meat locker disappeared. He was back in Alicia’s guest room and he was not alone. He detected Alicia’s perfume before he saw her standing beside him in the dim light.<br/>"Are you all right?" she asked softly. “I heard you call out in your sleep.”</p><p>"Yeah – I guess so. I had this nightmare that I was dead and hanging in a god-damned meat locker."</p><p>"You’re safe now." Alicia shook head. "I can’t imagine how terrible it must have been for you.  I really can’t do much, but here, let me give you a back rub," she offered. Wrapped in her bathrobe, she sat beside him on the bed and laid her warm hands on his neck and shoulders.  </p><p>Tyler lay prone and relished her soft touch. Her undeniable, physical reality helped Tyler hold on to his here and now and dismiss his horrible dream.  Her surprisingly strong fingers kneaded the heavy muscles of his back and flanks methodically. His blanket slipped lower and lower until he was naked on the fold-out bed. Alicia rested a soft, warm hand on his buttocks. Tension fled and was replaced by other stirrings. Tyler lifted himself on his elbow and half-turned to face Alicia. </p><p>Alicia took his face in her hands and kissed him – once and then again. Her tongue brushed his lips. "They say a boy’s first fuck after the Hunt is his best. Something about life conquering death."<br/>Tyler started to speak but Alicia put her finger to his lips. The time for speaking had passed.</p><p>Tyler trembled as he came and fell quickly into a deep sleep. The horror of his fantasies dissolved in Alicia’s warmth, ardor, and the enduring fragrance of her perfume.</p><p> Tyler awoke slowly in the dark. He stirred when moist lips brushed his neck. Weight shifted and the bed creaked its weary complaint. A female form straddled his chest and a rough bush slid up his chest. Knowing hands directed him unmistakably to where he might best use his mouth and tongue. He could see little beyond her thighs and sex. The perfume of her desire was intoxicating. Other hands manipulated his genitals. Once he was hard, his sex was sheathed and taken. When the women changed places, he finally saw that the two were Madison and Nichole – Alicia’s roommates. </p><p> He had come again hard, when Alicia returned. "Anything left for me," she asked cheerfully. She ran her finger along his thigh, then cupped his balls and stroked his cock with the side of her thumb. Nothing stirred. "Nichole, be a dear and hand me the rubber box." Among the plastic wrapped condoms were a few foil wrapped suppositories.</p><p> The prostaglandins surged through Tyler’s system. He was rock hard and stayed rock hard until Alicia had taken her full measure of satisfaction from him. He could not orgasm himself again. He had thought that he had had enough for himself for a fair while, but he was left vaguely dissatisfied with an empty aching feeling. </p><p>Alicia put her robe and came out into the kitchen. Madison and Nichole were sitting at the table and drinking their coffee.</p><p>"Your boy’s a lot of fun," Nichole smiled. "He’s quite a good lay. I loved the sweaty taste of his skin."</p><p>"I just wish he were mine." Alicia answered. "You know what a male’s contract costs – so few survive the damned Hunt. We couldn’t even buy one together."</p><p>"Our Health Club keeps a few boys. You have to schedule an encounter a full week in advance," Madison offered.</p><p>"That’s why we should join PET’M too!" said Madison. "I’ll take one of Alicia’s enthusiastic amateurs over one of your surgically enhanced professionals, anytime.</p><p>“Speaking of a piece of ass, I put that half haunch in the refrigerator,” Nichole suddenly remembered.</p><p>“I bought it from the Rangers.”  You won’t believe how little it cost.”  The price of jacques always went down in the Hunting season.  Abattoirs often scheduled vacations to take advantage of the lull.  Alicia opened the refrigerator and lifted the heavy roast.  She laid it upon the table and unwrapped it.  The shapes of the heavy thigh, meaty buttock, and loin were easily discernable. “Let’s get him cut up into more manageable pieces. Do you know what loin chops cost at Laura’s Market?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Tyler's Last Hunt: 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tyler had survived the Hunt. His mother was overjoyed to have seen him. Even his sister offered him a hug and a rare kind word.  Now he had the rest of his life before him.   He could always live at home until he was ready but he now he had to get a job. Young women his age had studied business, computers and engineering. He had learned how to hide in the woods. Other skills were needed now.  Sex work was always available for a male, but Tyler wanted something else for himself. </p><p>Alexis Benoit liked having a male in the office.  Some complained that a male’s presence changed the atmosphere of a workplace.  Males destroyed spontaneity.  The sexual tension was distracting. Human frailties emerged like flirting and jealously. Camaraderie was disrupted as everyone was on her guard. People complained that they had to watch what they said for fear of giving offense or unintended innuendo.  Given the small number of males and their opportunities elsewhere, they were vastly overpaid for the meager training and expertise they brought to the workplace. </p><p>Ms. Benoit thought that a male employee brought class to an operation.  Woman visitors enjoyed being greeted and fussed over by a male.  Chivalry wasn’t dead.  Woman liked having a male to open doors, carry baggage, and park cars. A bit of masculine attention sometimes went a long way.  If a young, attractive male let nature take her course and allowed himself to provide other benefits too, that was fine and added to his worth. Many women found the usual overt pay-for-play distasteful, so much per hour or per act.  Subtle exchanges of favors were more acceptable.</p><p>Tyler quickly became a member of the team. He was a very attractive young man.  Despite his unrevealing caftan, the strength of his build was apparent in his carriage.  Even his shyness was endearing. Victoria hit on him again and again and either he ignored her quite gracefully or he was totally unaware of her designs.  Marissa had more respect for his autonomy and took much ribbing from Chloe who speculated endlessly on how he looked under his caftan.  Ms. Benoit found him eager to please and sincerely hard working and that made him all the more attractive to her. Her life didn’t have place for a high-maintenance male.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Tyler's last Hunt: 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Victoria chose Androphone’s for her birthday.  Tyler wished that she had chosen someplace “less over the top” like Frere’ Jacques or even Les Guerilleres.  She could even have chosen Demeter’s Flower, the vegetarian restaurant. However, the boss was paying and Victoria was not about to miss an opportunity to eat at Androphone’s on someone else’s expense account.  </p><p>Tyler talked it over with Marissa at work.  “If you’re all that uncomfortable you simply needn’t come,” she counseled him. “Say, I’ll even help you think of an excuse.</p><p>Tyler said that he wanted to be “one of the guys” and not demand special consideration or privilege.  The exclusive Androphone’s was generally recognized to be one of the finest restaurants of its type.  If he was to find acceptance, he knew that he could not demand the privilege to make rules for everyone else. </p><p>“Well,” she said, “if you put it that way, you survived your three hunts and you really earned your citizenship.  You’re really not a jack anymore – you’re a colleague.  You’ve really got to let go of the past – once and for all - and enter the larger world.</p><p>“Are you actually going to eat jacques?” he asked her. Jacques is the flesh of males or jacks as beef is the flesh of cattle.</p><p>“I never have, it’s so expensive. But Androphone’s is so special.  I really don’t know,” she answered enigmatically. “I’ll decide latter.  People eat all kind of strange things.  I’ve really never heard anyone who has tasted jacques and said it’s anything but really delicious. And they say Androphone’s really does it best.”</p><p>Tyler swept into Androphone’s with Chloe, his immediate supervisor at work.  She had met him in the parking lot where the appetizing aroma of the mesquite was already evident. They walked by the cloakroom.  Tyler peeked inside and saw fur coats of raccoon, coyote, and mink as one might expect in a tony restaurant as well as the costly, elegant patchwork coats of jack leather.  Chloe was stunning in her tailored wool suit, but Tyler drew the stares of female diners.  He stood a quarter meter taller and carried twice the bulk of his companion.  He wore the standard dress caftan that was de rigeur male formal dress after the Revolution.  Some tried to revive traditional male suit.  However, a suit on a male was thought threatening and succeeded only in reminding people of the horrors of society before the Change.  The ankle length, deep blue caftan was cleverly designed so that it might be unfastened with a single button over the left shoulder.  What males wore or didn’t wear under the caftan was the subject of much raucous comment.</p><p>Androphone’s was constructed with three tiers of tables surrounding a central fire pit.  The fire pit mounted two spits, each of which might accommodate either one or two jacks.  A pair of jacks might be roasting on one spit while the carcasses on the other were ready for carving.  This night, a weeknight, about two thirds of the tables were occupied by sophisticated diners whose exquisite couture fully reflected the wealth and chic that brought them to dine at Androphone’s in the first place. One spit was occupied.</p><p>The maître d' showed them to their table.  Tyler could tell that his male presence made her nervous.  Hell, this whole thing made him damned nervous and somehow he had to somehow find the strength and forbearance to cope.  His eyes kept returning to the pitiful figure turning on the spit.  The poor creature had been skinned and folded into a compact shape to promote even roasting.  His lower legs had been somehow bent backwards at the knee, his feet resting on his thighs. Then, his inverted knees had been rolled up under his armpits and his arms brought around the outside.  The spit pierced his hands, then his feet, and then passed between his buttocks to appear between the loose stitches that closed his abdomen to emerge ultimately from his widely gaping mouth. He had been boiled in a huge cauldron – Androphone’s secret - before roasting to remove excess fat, assure tenderness, and saturate the meat with the carefully chosen spices.  Few had the facilities.  In some places, his flesh had been carved away by the smiling chef in the tall white hat, exposing the gleaming white bones beneath.  The scene reminded him of something out a painting by Bosch, but the smell of the aromatic wood and roasting meat was tantalizing in some bizarre way that at least partially bypassed his conscious reservations to his immense visceral and intellectual discomfort.  </p><p>Ms. Alexis Benoite, the COO, was already seated. With her were Ms. Jodie Gurinno, the CIO, Marissa, Victoria, and Haley from Information Systems.  Chloe and Tyler sat down. They returned the greetings and Chloe jumped right into the conversation.  </p><p>Tyler was quiet. At first, he tried to listen to them talk.   However, soon he found himself searching the faces of his coworkers rather than listening to their words.  He looked once at the fire pit and then again.  Then he examined the diners at the other tables for some hint of understanding of what was occurring.  The stylishly coiffured heads of elegantly dressed ladies turned this way and that, as they ate and talked quietly with their companions – both jocularly and in earnest.  Their well-manicured hands deftly carved thin slivers of meat – likely the roasted flesh of the half devoured wretch turning slowly on the spit.  The slivers of meat were gracefully impaled on the sharp prongs of finely made sterling silver forks and neatly maneuvered between brilliantly colored lips, past gleaming white teeth, and into the moist embrace of a subtle tongues.  Not one seemed to understand that her repast was the flesh of a human being and share Tyler’s horror.  </p><p> Ms. Emily Benjamin, the CFO, rushed in a few minutes later, breathless and behind schedule.  She sat down and found the wine that Jodie Gurinno had ordered for her.  Ms. Alexis Benoit, gently rapped her spoon on her wine glass and commanded everyone’s attention.  “I’m not one for long speeches, but I really want to thank you all for your work the last few months.  Let’s celebrate.  I can think of no better way to say thank you. Cheers!”</p><p>Everyone raised their glass and drank heartily.  “What about pay raises?” Jodie Gurinno suggested with a twinkle in her eye.  “Pay raises.  Thank them with pay raises, Alexis!”</p><p>Everyone stopped breathing.  Haley sputtered and choked.  Ms. Benjamin actually spit her wine back into glass.  Alexis was too happy tonight to be provoked, even by her old friend.  She just laughed.  ”I heard you the first time, Jodie.  Pay raises a different day. Tonight, bon appetit!”</p><p>The server came top take their orders.  She stared uncomfortably at Tyler and he stared right back, with equal discomfort.  Meanwhile, a second steaming carcass was put over the coals to roast and attracted everyone’s attention.  The trussed carcass had been slowly simmered in water, vinegar, salt, and spices to remove excess fat, assure tenderness, and saturate the meat with the exotic spices.  Only then was he seared over the mesquite fire.  The poor creature had likely never been treated so lovingly in his life.</p><p>Alexis Benoit, obviously the chief, motioned for the others to order first.   Chloe ordered the House Special, thin slices of jacques shaved from the carcass rotating on the spit and served with an assortment of fruit salsas and chutneys.  Victoria ordered loin chops with the roasted potatoes and asparagus.</p><p>‘I’ll have the lobster,” Marissa said and looked at Tyler.</p><p>“Lobster?” Victoria asked.  “You come to Androphone’s and order lobster?  You might as well go to McDonalds’ and order a pizza!”</p><p>“The jacques really is so expensive and I’m not really sure that I’ll like it.” </p><p>“Everyone likes it.” Ms Alexis Benoite reassured her with her characteristic lack of equivocation. “And thank you for your concern about corporate finances.  Remember, though, I’m paying tonight and you, please don’t worry about it.” </p><p>“Some day we’ll raise jacks from embryo’s just like we do lobsters,” Emily Benjamin contributed.  “Then the prices will take a tumble!”</p><p> "Ok, I’m convinced." Marissa threw Tyler an "I really tried" look. "I’ll take the House Special too.”</p><p> Haley ordered chicken to the jeers of her table. "My aunt raises jacks on her ranch. I’ve helped out there one summer in college and I’ve never eat jacques since."<br/>"You feel sorry for them?" Victoria asked skeptically.</p><p>"Leave her alone," Tyler interjected somewhere finding courage to speak. "At least someone here recognizes that males have at least the potential to be human beings."</p><p> Haley shook her head. "Not exactly, Tyler. Present company excluded – sorry again  Tyler - and I really don’t mean to spoil anyone’s appetite.” She smiled weakly.  “These jacks are really filthy creatures." She wrinkled up her face to show her disdain. "- left to their own. If you saw or smelled their idea of hygiene, you wouldn’t put any part of the beast anywhere near your precious mouth. You kiss your children with those lips!"</p><p>Before Tyler could respond, Marissa joined the conversation. "Not really too many opportunities to shower in a jack pen, are there, Haley?”</p><p> "Come on, guys!" Emily Benjamin interjected. This meat comes from government inspected processing plants. You can eat what you like, but there’s no threat to health.</p><p>Tyler ordered chicken too. No one questioned his choice. Jodie Gurinno ordered the House Special. Emily Benjamin asked for the saddle of jacques with the port reduction sauce. Alexis Benoit ordered the fillet au poivre.<br/>  The women talked and watched the roughly cylindrical shapes turning slowly over the glowing embers. Tyler could not tear his eyes away from the tableaux before him. The chef, in her spotless white gloves and tall white hat, alternatively applied barbecue sauce liberally with appeared to be a good-sized paint brush and extinguished any open flames that dared show themselves and threaten to scorch the roast with her handy squirt bottle. Every so often, a server would place a cart next to her and she would briefly exchange her brush and bottle for a knife and whetstone. Several brisk strokes on either side perfected the already razor-sharp blade. Then she exchanged the whetstone for a long handled carving fork. Knife and long handled fork in hand, she inspected the roast and found a place where the flesh had been seared to exactly the right degree. She then shaved thin slices, leaving the less cooked meat underneath.</p><p>   "You know," Victoria began. "Those poor jacks down there, try to chew through their spits. If you go down and look, you can see the teeth marks - without a doubt."<br/>   "No!" Tyler said, in horror.</p><p>   "Those jacks are long dead, really, well beyond trying to bite anything." Marissa contributed.</p><p> "Go look!" Victoria responded with a smile. Chloe and Emma Benjamin stood up and went down to investigate. </p><p>Valerie Tauville and her companions entered the restaurant and strolled toward Tyler’s table. Heads turned at their appearance. However, neither the stunning Valerie nor her equally striking friend, Ashley Wirkow drew the overt stares from the otherwise genteel diners. Valerie had brought her boy Todd and he was the one who drew all of the interest. While males might always be found at Androphone’s, either roasting on the dual spits or hanging patiently in the coolers waiting for their turn, male customers were rare. Tyler had drawn his share of stares. Todd attracted even more attention because he was stark naked or rather more naked than simply stark naked. </p><p>For a start, he had no clothing. All of his body hair had been removed and his skin was unmarked and as smooth as a baby’s bottom. His ass was stylishly high and tight. He boasted no adornment other than a short gold chain that lifted his penis and connected the small gold rings that pierced its glans and his navel. His hairless scrotal sac was baldly exposed and even the narrow scar from his vasectomy unmistakably evident. As he walked, his full testicles appeared and disappeared in rhythm with his gait.</p><p>Marissa enjoyed the spectacle. She knew it was impolite to stare, but she looked him up and down with well- practiced indifference and carefully examined his bare feet most carefully. Males frequently went barefoot to mitigate the basic gender size dimorphism to whatever extent possible. Neatly pedicured feet were the hallmark of a well-run household. Here the boy was as carefully groomed as elsewhere. </p><p>Victoria grinned from ear to ear. Todd was gorgeous.  Her glee increased when she saw Tyler’s obvious embarrassment. Tyler just wanted to hide. He had gone with the others to the Stick and Bag and tolerated the good-natured nudity of the waiters easily. Tyler touched his ear and found reassurance in the presence of his three rings. Todd had no rings and likely obtained some sort of exemption from the Hunt. </p><p> "Hey, Tyler." Victoria said in a loud whisper. "He’s gorgeous.  You’d really need a lot of ‘self-confidence’ to display yourself like that!"</p><p> "It’s not for me." Tyler responded, rising to the bait. </p><p> "Well, maybe you aren’t just up to the standard. He looks eminently fuckable, Val." Victoria offered.</p><p> "I’ve told you, dear, he’s really very good," she smiled.</p><p> "Any free samples."</p><p> "Well, Ashley and I are looking forward to some hearty partying later. Would you like him to go down on you?"</p><p>"Well, dinner’s almost here and I see Emma and Chloe coming back. I think that I’ll take a pass –for now." Valerie excused herself and rejoined her party at their table.  </p><p>Chloe and Emily returned. "Victoria’s right!" Chloe informed everyone. The wooden spits have bite marks."</p><p> "Yes," Emily Benjamin continued, "We asked the chef she laughed at our question. The poor, motherless jacks are long dead and beyond pain, but muscle spasms from the heat clench the jaw shut and mark the wood. So there!"<br/>After a time, the server brought out a tray of appetizer. Each plate boasted a mound of mushroom risotto surmounted by two slivers of meat and garnished with a slice of lemon. She looked at Tyler curiously as she placed a plate before him. When everyone was served, she offered freshly ground pepper. </p><p>   "Is this what I think it is?" Ms. Benoit asked Victoria, who had organized the evening.</p><p>   "I don’t exactly know what you’re thinking," Victoria said to Ms. Benoit, all the while looking at Tyler. "It’s criadillas, with mushroom risotto."<br/> Tyler looked puzzled and probed the fragments of meat with his fork. "Criadillas?"</p><p> Victoria’s smile gleamed all the brighter. "Criadillas – mountain oysters – balls. A real delicacy.</p><p> Tyler felt his own testes climb back up their spermatic cords and seek refuge in his belly. He thought that he might be sick. He mumbled an apology and pushed himself away from the table and fled to the rest room. So few males, were loose on the street that a single unisex rest room sufficed.</p><p> Marissa didn’t know what to say. Victoria was beaming in triumph. Ms. Benoit shook her head. "You just can’t take him anywhere!" she said, mitigating her harsh words with her obvious fondness for Tyler.  “Maybe he shouldn’t have come tonight.”</p><p>The women enjoyed their appetizers immensely. Emily Benjamin and Chloe divided what Tyler obviously did not want. Ms. Benoit and Victoria relieved Haley of the delicacy that she stubbornly refused.   <br/> Tyler didn’t return. Marissa and Chloe went to go check on Tyler. Marissa brought him his wine glass. Chloe found his stall in the rest room. Tyler crouched, bent over the commode. He had vomited and more than once. </p><p>Marissa called, "Are you okay, Tyler." </p><p>He grunted a reply. She put down the wine and went to find a glass of water.</p><p>Chloe grabbed the wine and reached into her purse to retrieve a small white pill. "Here, Tyler swallow this. You’ll feel better. We do want you to come to Victoria’s party." Tyler took the pill and chased it with the remainder of his wine. She helped him up and to a sofa in the outer parlor. Marissa returned with the water. First, Tyler rinsed out his mouth and then he drank the rest gratefully. "I feel better, but I’m still a little woozy."</p><p> "I’ll bring you some more water. Really, should I take you home?" asked Marissa.</p><p> Tyler saw the conflict on her face. She obviously wanted to stay and enjoy the evening but she was ready to help him if he asked – really.  He smiled at the word.  "Just let me rest a bit and I can call a cab myself. Thanks, Marissa. Go enjoy your dinner." He shook his head. He just couldn’t seem to gather his thoughts.”-really,” he added and even Marissa smiled at his appropriation of her favorite word.  </p><p>"I’m not sure that you could make it from the cab to your apartment,” Chloe offered.  “We’re all hoping so much that you can come to Victoria’s after."</p><p>‘-Really,” Marissa added.</p><p> When the women finished their repast, Alexis Benoit, Emily Benjamin, and Jodie Gurinno went home. The meal was memorable.  Marissa was not disappointed in her selection. Victoria and Haley took off for Victoria’s. Marissa and Chloe found Tyler still sitting where they had left him.</p><p>"How’re you doing, Tyler." Marissa asked. Tyler shook his head. "Do you think that you can make it to the party?"</p><p> "Here, take another pill and I’ll drive us to Victoria’s." Chloe offered. </p><p>"Just give me the directions, one more time," Marissa pleaded.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Tyler's Last Hunt: 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The loud music could be heard on the street and must be deafening inside. A well dressed young woman about Tyler’s age open on the door, "Hi! I'm Cassie and this is this Victoria's party! You must be Tyler – heard about you - and Chloe and Marissa." She ushered them inside. "Well. Tyler, Victoria has told me all about you. You're sure cute enough." Cassie looked him over and offered her casual judgment. "Aren't you nervous or anything?" she asked. She actually blushed.</p><p>The party was rolling. Victoria was dancing with Caitlin and Haley was dancing with Kathy and Jennifer. No other male was present. Tyler’s first margarita was large, cold, and delicious. Chloe wanted to dance, so Tyler finished his drink quickly, maybe too quickly, and put the glass down. He felt inebriated already. He hadn’t had all that much to drink at Androphone’s.  Maybe it had something to do with those little white pills.</p><p> The dancing was intense. Tyler danced in a sandwich between Kathy, a friend of Victoria, and Chloe. It was a slow dance, so that he should have had a chance to catch his breath but the drinks or something caught up with him and he became more confused. He felt the heat of their bodies and Chloe's face on his thick ponytail and her questing hands on his ass and thighs. The inner voice commanding him to push her away became more and more distant and feeble. It felt so good. He sensed their excitement and it was contagious. Something was very wrong, though, but he couldn't tell exactly what. The music and the animation of the women were compelling. He just couldn’t focus. Whenever he was thirsty, someone was right there with a fresh drink. The second margarita had been delicious and so was the fourth. Then he had lost count.</p><p>Boldly, Chloe undid the button and the caftan fell around him, leaving him wearing only a thong. </p><p>When Kathy cupped his genitals through the thin material, he was only aware the urgent demands of his body. The sexual heat was rising. Chloe felt flush when she pressed against his bare back. </p><p>Chloe reached around and rubbed her hands over the coarse hair of his chest and tweaked his nipples. She rubbed herself against his bare buttocks.  Her sex throbbed and she could feel moisture dribbling down her thighs. </p><p> Kathy kissed him hungrily. Chloe undid his thong and his sex leaped out. Kathy squeezed the glans of his engorged penis between her thumb and first finger. Chloe licked the sweat from his neck while slipping her hand under his buttocks and cupping his balls. She finally learned what was hidden under his caftan and she seemed quite pleased.  The three moved to the music together. He was rock hard and woozy perhaps from the diversion of blood flow. Kathy kissed him deeply on the lips again.</p><p>"Yuck, Kathy!" Haley shouted form across the room, and Kathy broke off the kiss. "Don't kiss him on the mouth! Do you know where his mouth has been?"</p><p> "Shut up, Haley, I've seen you kissing your dog on the mouth," Kathy turned and retorted but did not kiss him again. Tyler should have been alarmed to be naked in the presence of these stunning, clothed women, but he was aware only of his arousal and the undeniable arousal of those around him. </p><p> He lost any sense of time or place while he was passed along from woman to woman. Someone, he didn’t know who, snapped picture after picture. Each successive flash blinded him for what seemed like an increasing length of time. His balance became increasingly unsteady and finally Victoria, of all people, helped him to sit. "Come over here, honey, she cooed. "You've been great."</p><p> "I feel wretched," Tyler said, finally admitting to his condition. "Help me find my clothes, any clothes. I've got to lie down. He looked around for Marissa."</p><p> "Just take this,' she offered, holding up yet one more little white pill and small glass. "It'll make things easier." She marveled at his tolerance, but then remembered that he was twice her size.</p><p>  "No more alcohol," he protested, trying to identify the source of his increasing weakness and befuddlement.</p><p>"No more alcohol." Victoria smiled. "Swallow the pill and drink the ginger ale." She helped him to a bedroom and left him there alone, closing the door behind her. He took the pill. She had given him vodka to wash it down and it did not make things any better.</p><p>       Tyler lay prone on the bed. Through half open eyes, he saw Chloe came in with Kathy, Haley, and Cassie, who turned out to be Caitlin’s sister. They did not have his clothes. "Let's get him ready." Kathy said. Together, Chloe and Haley lifted him unsteadily to his feet and Kathy laid a bath towel on the bed under him before he collapsed heavily back onto the bed. He lay prone again with his legs hanging over the edge. He tried to move but had little strength and less will. Chloe hopped onto the bed and straddled him, sitting between his shoulders and facing his butt. She hooked her legs under his arms and sat back on her haunches. Kathy handed her a beer. </p><p> Tyler could breath – barely -  but he was almost totally  immobilized. He could only kick his legs feebly.</p><p> "Staahap. Noooh," he mumbled, simply unable to make his mouth form intelligible words.</p><p> "What's he saying?" Cassie asked.</p><p>"I can't tell." Haley answered.</p><p>Kathy found his raging erection. She girdled it with her hand. "Cassie, did you ever see a male come. Watch this." She spit on her hand and grabbed him again. Tyler tried to bring his legs together, but Kathy kicked them apart and worked him methodically. He hadn't the will or the strength to resist. Nothing had diminished his ability to respond. Kathy warned Cassie when he was about to spurt. Cassie caught most of the ejaculate in her palm, then waited while Kathy milked the last few drops. The volume was substantial. Cassie sniffed her hand and showed it to Haley who made one of her characteristic faces.</p><p> "I want to try," Cassie offered.</p><p> Kathy laughed. "Give him a few moments to recover. Go find the birthday girl. Caitlin’s getting her ready. You can play later. Has anyone seen Marissa?"</p><p>Victoria emerged from the bathroom with Caitlin and Marissa. Everyone turned. She stood there all girlish in her white teddy, with an incongruous 14 inch dildo strapped into place, fully two inches in girth, and a pair of open Dos Eques in her hand. All gawked for an instant before laughter erupted.</p><p>"Don't look at me!" Victoria yelped. "Just don't look at me! I simply don't know how in the world I let you guys talk me into this."</p><p> "Just look at his ass, Victoria!" Kathy responded. "If you don't want him, I'll take him." Cassie tossed her a pair of latex gloves. </p><p>Tyler opened his mouth to say something and Kathy slapped his ass hard leaving the shape of her hand in red. "Anything we want, Tyler. Keep your mouth shut and spread those yummy cheeks and see if you can earn a tip." Kathy couldn't resist. Tyler’s helplessness made him even more appealing. She just couldn't keep her hands off of his ass. </p><p>“Are you guys sure this is a good idea?” Marissa asked.  No one answered.</p><p>Victoria opened a lubricated condom with her teeth and sheathed the dildo with one practiced hand belying her apparent inebriation. It was one of her favorites. She aligned herself behind him unsteadily with one hand on his tailbone and beer bottles in her other hand.  The artificial phallus bobbed up and down. She looked confused. She just couldn't decide what to do with the beer. She looked around desperately. She simply couldn't reach a secure place to put it down safely without moving and she was determined to finish what she had started. She chugged the remaining one-half of one bottle but the other remained.</p><p>"You're supposed to use some kind of lubricant, I'm told." Cassie suggested, always helpful. Everyone stared back at her in wonder. "That's what I’ve heard! Be real!" she squealed in embarrassment. "I haven't done this myself, at least not too often, you know!"</p><p>Victoria smiled. She poured the second frosty beer over Tyler’s warm ass and simply dropped the bottles, now empty and no longer at risk of spilling. He shuddered from the cold and started to move again. He stopped abruptly and froze when she grabbed his balls and squeezed. "Spread those legs a little, Tyler, honey. We're going for a ride." Tyler’s brain screamed at him to get away, but his limbs would not move and Chloe sat, perched firmly on his back. He lay limp and unresisting.</p><p>Standing behind him at the side of the bed, Victoria readied herself keeping a firm grip on his balls. Flushed with drink and excitement, she probed his anus with her thumb first, taking care not to scratch him with her long, pointed nail, and then she positioned the dildo. As much as she liked his ass, she had little appetite for fecal material and she was glad that he kept himself clean. Kathy had her hand on his back and one hand in her pants.</p><p>"Relax, Tyler," Victoria coed, suddenly sounding quite sober. "It'll only hurt for a minute. Right, that's what they always say! Relax, now. Relax. Relax." With the third 'relax' she moved strongly and penetrated his asshole with a single, fluid motion. He grunted in his stupor and rolled forward. Her grip on his balls limited how far he could move. </p><p>Tyler grunted with her thrust.  Whatever conscious voice remained quickly gave up and tried to hold still, hoping only that she would finish quickly.</p><p>That's a boy," Kathy cheered. Take it like a pro. I'll bet your asshole is no cherry. Ooh, baby! Take it all!"</p><p>He moaned and tried weakly to twist away with each of her first abortive thrusts, but Victoria kept her intimate grip and soon found her rhythm. His groans were replaced by the slap of flesh against flesh as he moved against her seemingly involuntarily and his ass seemed to devour the sheathed dildo. Victoria ground her way slowly and methodically to orgasm.</p><p>"You like it, don’t you. Being fucked. Tyler, boy?" Victoria asked breathlessly, she herself grunting with each thrust. "He really does!"</p><p>“They are all such sluts!” Kathy grinned wickedly. "Look at his body language. Just look at his wicked woody." Victoria was solidly in the saddle and Chloe slipped off his back to get a better look at the proceedings and to insure her place in line.</p><p>"I asked Tyler," Victoria repeated, increasingly flushed and breathless. "Tell me Tyler, you love it, or what? You love being fucked, Tyler? Being fucked by me." She slapped his ass sharply.</p><p>He made some sort of noise but he was muffled by the pillow. He tried weakly to turn and push her away. No one even noticed his feeble resistance.</p><p>Victoria leaned forward and grabbed his ponytail in her hand without interrupting her rhythm. Stronger than she looked and enjoying considerable leverage, she pulled his head up and he reared like a stallion, throwing his arms forward to steady himself. Victoria held her position. "Say it! Say it, Tyler. I want some assent - right - ass' sent?"</p><p>He moaned unintelligibly once more. He tried weakly to unseat her with some writhing twisting movement. </p><p>Victoria held tight with all her strength and kept her mount, the effort twisted the dildo against her sex and carried her to orgasm. She shuddered and came - hard, once and then again. She promptly withdrew the soiled dildo with a popping noise and let go of Tyler. "Thanks for the ride, Tyler, that was a big one!" she said breathlessly. "Thanks."</p><p> He groaned and collapsed. The dildo was soiled with fecal material and blood and blood trickled down the inside of his thigh.</p><p> "What a way to earn a living!" Kathy contributed cheerfully. "I'm next. Remember when I fucked that guy Timmy at Michelle's party. He was lying on his back with his legs back over his shoulders. He sucked his own cock like a baby sucks her bottle while I did the dirty deed on his tight little butt." </p><p>   Kathy was next but she wasn't last. Chloe followed, then Caitlin, and Haley. Even Marissa took a turn, not willing to bear teasing from her friends.  Fucking a man in the ass is an acquired taste, like red wine and cigars, and requires a bit of practice. Her feminist therapist had told her that it was a skill worth pursuing and good for her boy too, if a little uncomfortable and painful at first. </p><p> When Cassie's turn came, she replaced the soiled condom and strapped on the tool. Then she put on her jeans again with the dildo protruding from the open fly. "Have I got this right?" she asked feeling quite ridiculous but determined to keep pace with her slightly older friends.</p><p>"Fucking a man is an acquired skill, Cassie, maybe you're just too young and inexperienced," Victoria suggested feigning sympathy. "Maybe you just want to hold his hand and listen to music!" She snorted and surprised even herself with her crude noise.</p><p> "Just look at his bleeding hole. " She slipped the dildo between his bruised buttocks. "Talk about sloppy seconds. You guys sure trashed him. He looks like he’s having his period! I really don't want to kill him or anything." The dildo had hardly touched him but already it was soiled with blood and feces.</p><p>"Yuck," Kathy agreed. "Tell you what I'd do. Just fuck him in the mouth. One end's as good as the other. I wonder if he's some kind of mouth virgin?"</p><p>"I'll take a rain check on his ass, then!" Wrapping his pony-tail in her fist, Cassie held up his limp head and positioned the soiled dildo against his closed mouth. When he smelled the feces and felt the pressure against his face, he somehow found yet some remaining strength will to resist. Kathy waited impatiently to photograph the dildo sliding into his mouth, but he kept his jaw firmly closed. Haley and Caitlin came to help and his efforts proved futile. Haley just held his nose shut and despite his writhing, she kept her grip. When Tyler opened his mouth to breath, Cassie jammed the dildo home. He gagged and twisted, finally pushing Haley away, but Cassie did not let go and she took him in her turn.</p><p>With difficulty, Kathy and Chloe dragged Tyler’s limp form to the bathroom awkwardly and dumped him into the tub with some care to protect his head but without much ceremony. He was still breathing and he hadn't seemed to break a tooth, although he had bitten his tongue. First, he fell heavily and lay draped over the side with his much abused ass in the air. Caitlin enclosed three one-hundred dollar bills in a condom and slipped it past his bruised anus. She made a face. "What a way to earn a living!" Kathy and Chloe both laughed. Then they swung his legs over the side and he lay sprawled in the tub, snoring.</p><p> "Hey, let me use the bathroom," Haley pleaded. "I've really, got to pee."</p><p> "It's all yours," Kathy offered. "And his. What are you going to do about lover boy"</p><p>"Don't worry. Just clear out and I'll call you if he wakes up."</p><p>When he awoke, it was already light. Apparently, it had been light for some time. His mouth tasted like shit and his ass still burned. He stank from urine and wondered if he had peed on himself.  His memories of the previous night were a jumble. Details and specifics were elusive, his headache was overwhelming. He was almost too weak to move. He wrapped himself in a towel and staggered unsteadily into the kitchen. The usually welcome smells of coffee, bacon and maple syrup only added to his nausea and abject misery. He found Victoria, Kathy, Marissa, and Cassie up and dressed and chatting. Haley and Chloe had gone home.</p><p>"You look like you need a shower." Victoria suggested cheerfully. “You smell like it too!” She wrinkled her nose.  "Be my guest. I hope that there's some hot water left. Towels are right here and there's still breakfast if you want it."</p><p> A shower seemed like a good idea, Even though there wasn't much hot water, he clearly felt much better. He found the damned money and cursed the women's twisted sense of humor. He never wanted to sell sex for money.  He tried to reconstruct exactly what had happened the night before, but his recollections remained jumbled and confused. He grabbed a towel and dried himself. </p><p>"Hi! Tyler." Kathy called when he returned. "You were great!"</p><p>"Yeh, Tyler," said Victoria with a smile, "Thanks for the ride." Why don’t you come with us next week when we take a hike up to Red Lake Reservoir.</p><p> "Good morning, Tyler." sighed Cassie theatrically, "You were just great. You were my first, you know, my love!" They all laughed.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Tyler's Last Hunt: 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marissa sat in her robe on the easy chair while Tyler went into the kitchen for a snifter of brandy. He returned, glass in hand, as naked as the day that he was born. Marissa was so pleased that he had agreed to accompany her on her trip. She marveled at the otherness of his male body and its undeniable appeal. She brushed the underside of penis with her hand and his sex rose invitingly as he handed her the brandy. She sipped the fiery liquor, and put the snifter down on the side table. She reached out to touch Tyler’s erect penis and thrilled to feel it grow even harder and thicker in her hand. </p><p>Tyler kissed her and his mouth tingled at the taste of the liquor in her lips.</p><p> Marissa sighed and shifted her in her chair. She placed her hand on the back of Tyler’s neck.</p><p> The slight pressure told Tyler just what she wanted. He knelt before her and nuzzled her bellybutton. Then he ran his tongue down the inside of her left thigh.</p><p>Marissa sighed in frustration. She spread her thighs and pressed him to her all the more urgently. The time for teasing was done.</p><p>Tyler looked up at her. "I love you." He said simply.</p><p> "I know," she responded and leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. </p><p>"I’ll do anything that you want," he said.</p><p>She guided his mouth to her sex. "Anything?" she repeated quietly to herself. She moistened in anticipation and she was not disappointed. His tongue touched her and she felt herself open to him like a flower opening to the sun. Waves of pleasure washed over her. She thought about the two girls traveling together who asked to use Tyler. She thought about the three women at the resort with their Mikey who asked about a swap or a – what would it be – a five-some or six-some or something like that. </p><p> Tyler had been great at the party. He never talked about it at all, she wasn’t sure just how much he remembered. Chloe and Victoria did talk. Haley called him her Butt-boy, affectionately for a change, but never to his face. After the party at Victoria’s, Marissa had bought her own strap-on and dildo. They were packed away in her suitcase and perhaps this was the time. Fucking a man in the ass is an acquired taste - like cigars and red wine – and takes some degree of skill. Her feminist therapist urged her to give it a try – it would be good for Tyler too, she said. Practice makes perfect, they always say. Marissa herself had never felt do powerful as she did when she took Tyler that night at the party while her friends cheered her on. </p><p>Concentration became harder and harder. Marissa gave herself over to the pleasure of the moment.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Just One of the Guys: 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tyler and Marissa stopped at Grady’s 24/7 shop so that Marissa might use the facilities.  Tyler would never visited Grady’s on his own.  This day, he screwed up his courage and walked in while waiting for Marissa.  He pointedly ignored the hunting paraphernalia on sale. One poster showed a petite woman standing proudly beside her large kill. The brawny male hung head down and the woman’s head only reached the level of his groin. Her slender arm circled his strapping thigh and her diminutive hand rested possessively on his full genitals. The Janie knife display had a loop video showing two women proficiently field-dressing a magnificent male who must have weighed more than 100 kilos when alive, talking and laughing all the while, to show how a proper tool made an often bothersome task a lark. The video played over and over again in a loop and no one seemed to pay it any attention. Tyler could not help but see the small cellophane packages of jerked jacques on the rack. He felt naked and vulnerable, despite his concealing caftan.</p><p>         In any event, Tyler waited patiently in line and bought his doughnut. He was only too pleased when he was able to leave and go back outside.   Once outside, he had almost finished the treat when Marissa finally returned. She looked at him sadly and shook her head.  “Do you know how many chemicals and preservatives they have in those things – those doughnuts?”</p><p>	Tyler smiled and thought. He really enjoyed Marissa’s concern.  “Let’s see,” he pondered, searching for a clever retort.  “Enough chemicals for a chemistry set?  How about, enough preservatives to embalm two dynasties of Egyptians together with their mummified cats?” he proposed with mock seriousness.    “Give me a break, Marissa!  The motherless doughnuts just taste so damned good!  What about fun?”  He licked the sugary topping from his fingers meticulously.  Defiantly, he offered Marissa nothing.</p><p>	Marissa wouldn’t have accepted any offer in any event.  She really cared about Tyler.  She was in awe of his male appetite but more than a bit disappointed with his food selection today – as she had been on numerous occasions earlier.  She was just a stickler for natural foods and authentic materials.</p><p>	In the parking lot, they found a dark blue 4x4 parked next to Marissa’s beige sedan.  In the back, they saw male lying naked on his back. He looked to be 18 or 19 years old.  A piece of duct tape snuggly covered his mouth.  His wrists and ankles were bound securely.  Despite his unflagging labors, he was no closer to freedom.  In his struggles, he had only thrown off the tarp that had more or less covered him.  He made some sort of roaning sound, but he wasn’t able to do much else and he sure didn’t look very comfortable.</p><p>        With his knees wide-spread, his cock and balls were baldly exposed.  Before the Revolution, a male’s sex parts were perceived as a terrible menace.  A single male could intimidate a full dozen apparently sane, healthy women simply by threatening to expose his male apparatus. In this place and time, this fellow didn’t look very threatening.</p><p>	Tyler saw him and suddenly became faint. Waves of nausea rose from the pit of his belly as he recalled the terror of the Hunt and the fate of many of those whom he knew.  Thoroughly suppressed images intruded into his consciousness.  He was a rarity, a male who had survived three Hunts. Suddenly, he felt as if he were in the field again, hiding from his pursuers.  He had earned three gold earrings and most of the rights of citizenship.  Many males – most males - ended up like this one – obviously on his way to slaughter.</p><p>         Only strict limitation of the male population had guaranteed the gains of the Revolution.  The natural birth rate threatened recovery of male numbers. The annual Hunt provided a reliable check. A male had to survive three successive years in order to win his citizenship and the adult male population was held to no more than 10% of the total.  However, the Hunt created the challenge of the disposition of the remains.  In a State of 7 million people, the annual harvest ran 70,000.</p><p>        Every other creature, wild or domestic, had its vigorous advocates.  Many were all too embarrassed by the unpleasant details of the brutal slaughter of trusting, harmless domestic animals. The grace and beauty of wild creatures won them many friends and defenders.  </p><p>        Males or jacks as they came to be called, evoked little such sympathy. Some, certainly, refused to eat jacques, the flesh of males as beef is the flesh of cattle, or wear garments of manskin.  Their decisions remained a largely personal, individual choices and not the focus for any sort of major political movement.  However, a small number of radicals was even more extreme but very few indeed wanted a return to the days of the Patriarchy.  Many more prized the novelty and the cachet. Some relished the bitter irony after millennia of male oppression and some just enjoyed the taste.  Somehow, availability had whetted an appetite for male skins and meat.  </p><p>        Nature abhors a vacuum and over time, the percentage of male births actually increased in an attempt to redress the imbalance and finally passed 65%.  Raising two boys was more than many women could bear.  Facilities were set up where young boys - joeys - were kept and reared when their care became too burdensome for their mothers and grannies despite the government subsidies. However, a number of households still kept a boy or two.  Larger facilities came to be called “ranches.” Ranch-reared jacks were not eligible for the Hunt and were humanely and hygienically slaughtered for their meat and skins like other domestic animals.    The ranches could assure health, weight gain, and cleanliness, but could not spare the individual attention to help each individual realize his full potential and to transform the ordinary into the truly extra-ordinary. </p><p>         New uses for males and an eagerness to pursue them, led to an unpredicted male shortage.   Males still provided unskilled labor for strenuous, unpleasant, or dangerous tasks. Some women maintained their traditional sexual interests, though now with careful provision for the female physiology and for control of male strength and alacrity for violence.  For males, an orgasm was the culmination of sexual activity while for women, an initial orgasm was only the appetizer. </p><p>          Marissa peered over into the truck bed.  “He’s a meaty one,” she said.  She had a keen appreciation for the male body and its possibilities.  “I bet that he’ll dress out at 70 kilos – more than 70 kilos.  Lots and lots of good eating from the look of him!”</p><p>          The boy stared at Marissa in horror.  The duct tape covered his mouth and not his ears.</p><p>          A young woman in jeans and a PET’M T-shirt walked up to them.  Martha looked Tyler up and down.  A liberated male was a fairly unusual sight. Tyler wore the usual concealing caftan, but his powerfully built form still apparent.  She wondered whether the end of his cock was ringed. Women commonly staked out an exclusive claim on a male by gaining his consent to a piercing and placement of a gold ring.  She also checked out his bare feet.  One can always tell a well-managed household by a male’s well-groomed feet.   “You met my Jimmy, I see,” she said holding out her hand toward Marissa. “He’s my beauty.  My name is Martha.”</p><p>         Marissa shook her hand, wondering why a woman who was obviously taking a jack to market would wear a T-shirt from PET’M,  “People for the Ethical Treatment of Males.”  “Hi, I’m Marissa and this is my Tyler.” Tyler knew not to offer his hand unless Martha made the first move.</p><p>          Jimmy strained against his bonds, but they would not yield.  He glared at Martha fiercely, praying for some help.  Then he looked at Marissa and Tyler.  He whimpered against the duct tape that covered his mouth.   Tears ran down his face.  Martha reached over and touched his moist cheek gently.  She lifted her fingers to her mouth and savored the saltiness of his tears. She snorted at her sentimentality and shook her head her dismiss her childishness.  She was a businesswoman.  Then she reached over and stroked his penis, and he calmed promptly.  Quickly, she pulled the tarp over him and re-secured it carefully.</p><p>         “Little Jimmy here,” she said, mocking Jimmy’s size and bulk, “Won me a red ribbon, second place, in the overall competition. I’ve had him for less than a year.  Look at that haunch and those hams.  Next time you see him, he’ll be hanging at Laura’s Market.  She bought him from me right after the judging.  Your Tyler’s not bad, though.”  She reached up and touched the three rings in his left ear.  “I wish that I could get me a nice boy like him.  A boy to keep, I mean.  But you know, they’re expensive to feed – they eat so damned much.  That fat check from Laura keeps me from being too sentimental!”  She got in the truck and drove off.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Just One of the Guys: 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ashley and Jill Benson, her mother, talked about it for weeks.  They needed the money for college and for a new roof.  Once Jimmy turned eighteen and registered for the Hunt, they would lose the opportunity to sign him over for the generous bounty.  The women talked it over – out of Jimmy’s hearing – for weeks.  Ashley longed for the financial windfall that the payment would bring.  Frugality was getting tedious. Her mother was sorely tempted but loath to lose her son and Ashley’s brother after all these years.  Ashley persisted and one more monthly cycle of bills and unexpected car repairs finally decided the matter.</p><p>	  Jill arranged to be away from home when the Gender Police would come for her son.  Ashley, on the other hand, invited her friends, Emma and Lindsey to share in the event. Lindsey finished jacks herself as a hobby and was quite successful with her entries in the county fair.   She had done her darndest to urge Ashley and Ms. Benson to take this step.  The boy might even have potential. </p><p>	Jimmy bounced down to breakfast in his favorite jersey commemorating the old-world champion Los Angeles Clippers and gym shorts. His life was shit.  He only held his own in school and despite his efforts, he had been cut from his school’s mediocre basketball team.  Everyday he had to face his sister’s teasing and in two months, he had to sign up for the Hunt.  Well, he always looked forward to breakfast – and lunch and dinner for that matter –even though his skinny frame showed no hint of fat.</p><p>Jimmy was surprised to find that his mother had already gone to work and his sister’s two friends had stopped by on their way to school.  The young women sipped their coffee and pretended that nothing was out of the ordinary.  Behind their smiles and their superficial chatter, they were giddy with anticipation.  One would contort her face to keep from laughing aloud and elicit harsh stares from her friends.  Had Jimmy been at all suspicious, or even interested in anything other than food, they would have given themselves away more than once.</p><p>	“Hey, Jimmy,” Lindsey called.  </p><p>Jimmy grunted a reply.  </p><p>“How’s your basketball team?” His team was 2 and 10 and he had just been cut as Lindsey, Emma, Ashley, and everyone else in the world all certainly knew but Lindsey just couldn’t pass up the chance to inflict some suffering.</p><p>	The doorbell rang before Jimmy responded to the taunt and Ashley ran to the door.  She quickly opened the door for the officers.  Jimmy recognized their dread uniforms and stood behind his chair, as if it might offer some protection.</p><p>	“I’m Officer Fernandez and this is Officer Blake.” Jimmy Benson?” the shorter, brunette policewoman inquired as if this male in front of her could be anyone else.</p><p>	“Yes, ma’am.” Jimmy stood and answered courteously.  “I don’t need to register for the Hunt for another month or six weeks, right?”</p><p>	“Well,” Officer Fernandez continued uncomfortably but resigned as Officer Blake always left her to do all of the talking, “your family has signed you over to the state, Jimmy.”  She held out a sheaf of official looking papers.  “Happens all the time.”  </p><p>        Ashley and her friends hid their smiles behind their hands.  Emma choked when she tried to ward off her laugh and masked the paroxysm as a cough</p><p>	“No!” said Jimmy.  “Mom just wouldn’t do that to me! Let me call her.”  He took the papers and tried to make sense of them but the small print and convoluted legalese was somewhat beyond his limited reading skills.  He handed them to Ashley and pleaded for help. He called his mother on his cell but no one answered.</p><p>	Ashley looked at the papers.  “I’m sorry, Jimmy, really sorry, but everything appears in order.  Her triumphant expression belied her sympathetic words.  Jimmy looked from one face to the other looking desperately for help, some way out.</p><p>	“You’ll have to come with us now,” Officer Blake, blond and tall, said quietly, removing the handcuffs from her belt. “We have other stops to make this morning.”</p><p>	“Wait, please – a second.” Ashley interjected.  Jimmy’s hopes rose.  Perhaps she had an angle for him.  “Mom signed Jimmy over, right?” The officers nodded agreement.  “She didn’t sign over his clothes.  You can take Jimmy, but you must leave me his clothes.  I’ve always liked that jersey.</p><p>	“Is this really necessary, miss?  We can ship you his things from the collection center.  No one wants any trouble.” </p><p>	Ashley looked to her friends for support and found it in their faces. “I want them now.”   </p><p>	“You’re fully within her rights,” the Officer Blake admitted, “but you can still change your mind.”  She certainly hoped that she would.</p><p>	Ashley was resolute. She looked at her friends, and saw their encouragement, and grew even more determined.</p><p>	“Officer, she’s within her rights, you know,” Emma contributed.</p><p>	“Jimmy, you’ll have to disrobe.”  Jimmy stood paralyzed and just looked at Ashley, Emma, Lindsey, and the two officers.  “Disrobe, now.”  Still Jimmy didn’t move.  “Take off your clothes, now – strip!” Officer Fernandez commanded. She sensed his defiance and would not tolerate it.</p><p>	Jimmy finally started to comply. He slowly pulled off his jersey and threw it to the ground.  Ashley swept it up in an instant.  Next, he removed his shoes and socks.  Lastly, he took down his shorts and stopped.  “Underpants too?”  He pleaded.</p><p>	The police didn’t want any trouble. The male had yet to be restrained.  He still might resist.  Or he might flee. They were behind schedule already.  Officer Fernandez looked at Ashley, hoping that she would be satisfied with the sweatshirt. “Underpants too?” the officer asked.   </p><p>        Ashley was adamant.  She nodded a definite ‘yes.’  “Undies too.” The officer said regretfully.  There were some people whom she just could not understand.</p><p>	“Bye, Jimmy!” Lindsey smirked.  The boy was clearly on the scrawny side.  He would take an awful lot of work.  More work than just about anyone would be willing to invest.  “I’ll look for you in a can of cat food.”</p><p>	The officers lead Jimmy from the house, stark naked with his wrists cuffed behind his back.  Before he crossed the threshold, his sister was already trying on her LA Clippers sweatshirt.  The Gender Police van parked in front of the house was unmistakable and a small crowd had gathered.  When Jimmy emerged naked and restrained with the officers from the house, the few males present quickly disappeared.  A small crowd of women just suddenly emerged form nowhere and stayed around to gawk.</p><p>	Ashley, Lindsey, and Emma followed Jimmy down the stairs outside.  “What do you think, Lindsey?” asked the neighbor, Ms. Smith.  Lindsey had won some notoriety at the regional fair. Jimmy had some potential, but for now, he stood over 2 meters tall and didn’t yet weight 80 kilos.</p><p>	“He’s not ‘Gregory’ material.”  Lindsey always called her jacks “Gregory.”  “You won’t find Jimmy hanging around Laura’s Market, if you know what I mean.”  Laura’s Market only sold the finest meats and condiments. “I’d look for him at Hommeburger Heaven!” Everyone laughed.</p><p>	“First there’s prime, then there’s choice, and then there’s best,” offered Emma.</p><p>	“Then there’s wholesome, and then there’s Jimmy, Ashley completed the thought. “Let me say good-bye,” said Ashley, savoring the moment. She walked up to her brother who stood dejected with his wrists cuffed behind his back.  “Thanks for the jersey – sweetie - and goodbye, loser!” She whispered in his ear.</p><p>	Officer Blake opened the door and Officer Fernandez helped Jimmy in and secured him to his seat.  “I just can’t see it.  Some people, I just can’t understand them.  He might have gone postal on us back there!” said Officer Blake.</p><p>	“Well, he didn’t, so let’s worry about the next one,” offered Yersinia Fernandez.  Then they set off for their next assignment. By noon, they had eight males secured in the back. Six were dressed in their street clothes, one was in his underwear, and Jimmy alone was stark naked.</p><p>	At the collection point, the males were registered.  The serial numbers tattooed on their left ears were checked off a list.  The six still clothed were taken aside and stripped while Jimmy and the tall blond fellow in his underwear were led to the next station.  Since Blake and Fernandez had chosen to forgo their inspection earlier, they were responsible for the total body searches now.  Two other officers assisted.  One cut the underwear from the blond male.</p><p>	“Okay,” Officer Blake looked at her clip board to check the name, “Jimmy.  Help me and this won’t be too unpleasant.  I have to search you.”</p><p>	Standing naked with his hands cuffed behind his back, Jimmy wondered what he might be hiding.</p><p>	“You’re too tall.  You must kneel. Kneel!”</p><p>	Jimmy didn’t resist but he didn’t feel like helping either.  He just stood their puzzled.</p><p>	Officer Blake waited like she had been taught.   The search was really secondary to her job to teach Jimmy his true place in the scheme of things.  Several other males now stood with the blond one and watched Jimmy’s quiet resistance.  You don’t argue, you don’t shout, and you don’t repeat yourself, she thought.  When she had waited an appropriate time, she kicked him in the balls.  It’s for his own good.</p><p>	Jimmy writhed on the floor and studied the officer with respect tinged by a bit of fear.  The other males winced with the blow.  His eyes asked, what do you want me to do?  </p><p>        Blake sensing a quick victory, smiled and pointed to her forehead. Think!</p><p>	Jimmy thought and remembered that she had wanted him to kneel.  Awkwardly, he raised himself to a kneeling position.</p><p>	“Open you mouth!” </p><p>	He opened his mouth wide and accepted the invasion of her gloved hand.  She ran her fingers under his tongue and between his teeth and his cheeks, top and bottom.  She thrust her hand and what seemed like her entire arm deep into his throat.  Suddenly, he was unable to breath.  He coughed and sputtered and tried to pull away.  But cuffed and kneeling like he was, he had no leverage.  Officer Blake withdrew her arm when she was ready.  She waited for him to regain his breath, then ordered him to stand and bend over a low table. </p><p>	She stood behind him, kicked his legs wider apart and placed a hand on each buttock.  “Nice ass,” she quipped to her fellow officers.  Jimmy tried to prepare himself for whatever would come next.  First, she fingered his butthole with her lubricated index finger.  “Relax and don’t move” she cautioned. Two fingers followed and then her entire hand.  Jimmy screamed but didn’t move. She removed her hand with a plop, smiled, and turned to the others.  “Next,” she said.  Jimmy was crying but he still hadn’t moved.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Just One of the Guys: 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Martha unfolded the newspaper and saw the picture of Lindsey Granger accepting the check for selling her prize-winning jack, Gregory III, to Laura Westbrook of Laura’s Market one more time.  Lindsey always named then Gregory after her first grand champion.  Then she refolded the paper and stuffed it under her arm. She knew just what to say.   Envy was not a feeling to nurture, but it was hard to deny.  Excuses were cheap to manufacture but hard to sell.  It was time to stop dreaming and attend to her business at hand.</p><p>	Her Jimmy still sat moping in his pen in the garage as he was every time she saw him in the week since she had bought his contract.  He was two meters tall and now weighed only 74 kilos.  He had always been on the scrawny side from the beginning and that had made him less expensive.  He had the potential to be a bargain -  a great frame for hanging muscle. However, he wouldn’t eat a damned thing and he wouldn’t exercise a minute on the damned rowing machine.  At least he used the squatter toilet, although he hadn’t cleaned himself in 7 days.</p><p>	A sour smell assaulted her as she approached him.  “Hey, Jimmy,” she said trying to sound positive and cheerful.  He looked up briefly and then looked down again. He had been crying again.  Although she had a hundred reasons to be angry and disappointed, Martha went over to comfort him.  Her paper fell to the floor. “We can’t go on like this,” she said sadly.  She still had time to start from scratch with a new jack.</p><p>	What’s that?” asked Jimmy pointing to the newspaper.</p><p>	Martha was shocked to hear him speak. He rarely spoke top her at all except to scream insults.   “You’re pointing at the picture?” she asked.  </p><p>        He nodded, ‘yes.’  </p><p>        “That’s that damned Lindsey Granger winning first prize money at the fair for her Gregory III.  Do you know Lindsey? I’m told her Gregory IV is even better.  I bet that he’s not sitting and moping.  I bet he’s eating and working out.  I bet that he’s trying to make that bitch proud of him. I just hate her!” Martha was not proud of her feeling but that was just how she felt.</p><p>	“I know Lindsey Granger, I think.”  Jimmy said very slowly but distinctly, as if he hadn’t spoken for a long time. “My sister's friend?  Gawd, she is a total bitch.  You don’t like her either?” He looked up with renewed passion.</p><p>	“Honestly and speaking frankly,” Martha paused and then decided that she really didn’t care what Jimmy thought of her.  “I don’t like her at all not one bit.” Martha offered truthfully. A strategy bloomed in her mind.   “Not one bit and do you know what would make her angrier than anything?”</p><p> 	“What?” Jimmy asked, his understanding slowly sprouting.</p><p>	“What if Martha’s Jimmy Benson beat out her Gregory IV?  That would really piss her off!”</p><p>	Jimmy was surprised at his mixed feelings.  He thought for a long moment.  His life had been one failure after another.  He was born male.  He was a mediocre student.  He loved basketball but couldn’t even play on a losing team.  He just wanted to be loved for something.  Here was a chance, perhaps his last chance.  “Will it make you happy?”</p><p>“You’ll make me very happy.”</p><p>“What if I try and fail? I’ve failed at so many things.”</p><p>“I’ll still be proud of you, if you try really, really hard– with all your might.” Martha said, truly surprised by her own sincerity. “And do exactly as I tell you.” </p><p>  “Just tell me what I have to do!”</p><p>	Jimmy was as good as his word.  He did everything that she asked.  He ate 5 meals a day and worked four hours on the rowing machine.  He gained weight nicely and when Martha wanted him to supplement his work on the rowing machine with swimming, he gladly complied.  He even took advantage of the hose and kept himself clean. Emma taped the picture of grinning Lindsey and her Gregory III to the wall.</p><p>Time literally flew. She charted his weights and started her program of daily massage.  He filled out beautifully.  Jimmy ate and exercised with zeal.</p><p> As the date of the competition approached, Martha began to focus more on Jimmy’s grooming. She trimmed his hair and beard more carefully and kept his fingernails and toenails neatly clipped.  She actually enjoyed kneading the now heavy muscles of his legs and thighs and the massive muscles of his delts.  He enjoyed her attention too and redoubled his already substantial efforts to make her proud of him.</p><p>The day finally came.  Martha was proud of her Jimmy and he basked in her approval like a lizard in the sun.   In several hours, Martha would take Jimmy to the fair grounds for the judging.  He had turned out as well as any jack whom she had ever seen, let alone managed.  He washed himself carefully and she hosed him off playfully.  In the interest of time, she had brought a pair of bath towels to dry him off prior to his trip in her pickup.  </p><p>When he was clean, she through the towel over him and began to dry his shoulders and back. She actually trembled when she felt his high, tight ass.  Against her better judgment, her right hand snaked around to grab his cock.  He sighed and grew hard in her gentle but firm grasp. He had that cute birth mark on his ball sac!  He turned to face her and his cock poked out rudely between them.</p><p>Shaking her head at her foolishness, she pushed him back onto his pallet with her left hand while her right hand unzipped her jeans, the zipper ending a third the way down her thigh.  She usually had more self-control.  She straddled Jimmy and yanked the sopping crotch of her panties aside.  She was so hot and wet that nothing else mattered.  She took fully him inside of herself – all the way to the hilt – without preliminaries – in one fluid motion.  True to his nature and lack of experience, he came in seconds, but stayed hard long enough for her to take her own orgasm.  Limp and breathless, she was satiated down to the ends of trembling fingers and toes. It really had more to do with her than with him.  She leaned forward and braced herself with arms locked and her hands resting on his shoulders.  He lay beneath her with a dreamy look on his face.  His eyes were closed and he was breathing hard too.  She dipped her head and kissed him lightly on the lips, something that she never did.  “Up and at ‘em,” she said cheerfully, as much to herself as to anyone.</p><p>In fifteen minutes she had him in the back of her 4 x 4 and on the way to the fair. He had asked why she had to restrain him so securely, but hadn’t objected as she methodically fastened the chains.  Her sudden fear that she may have scratched him with her metal zipper proved unfounded.  He did win second place and Lindsey’s Gregory did no better than sixth.  Martha was able to sell Jimmy to Laura’s Market for a good price, just as she had dreamed.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Just One of the Guys: 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On Thursday night, Tyler had gotten home first.  He was cold, wet, and hungry.  He had given up his apartment with its exorbitant ‘male security fee’ and simply moved in with Marissa. He had been there two weeks already and still didn’t know exactly where she kept things.  However, he did know where her pantry was.</p><p>Tyler opened the pantry door, relishing his appetite and the likely prospects of a quick and tasty snack. He quickly scanned the large number of cans, variously sized and neatly stacked, that Marissa had organized by some obvious principle that somehow just simply escaped him.  Marissa had a fondness for authentic natural foods, lemonade made with real lemons and so on. A can of chili caught his eye – Premium Cowboy Chili with Meat. He plucked it from its place triumphantly and turned to begin the search for the prodigal can opener.</p><p>Holding the can in one hand and the opener in the other, Tyler inspected his prize in the light.  “Premium Cowboy Chili with Meat,” the label proclaimed in large type.  Made from real Cowboys, the label proclaimed.  By instinct, he turned the can to read the list of ingredients in the very small print, “jacques broth, jacques, beans, tomatoes, chili peppers,” and so on, he read.  “Meat from no jack younger than 18 years of age was used in the manufacture of this product.”  This was followed by logo of PET’M, People for the Ethical Treatment of Males.</p><p>Tyler lay over the end of the bed with his feet braced firmly on the ground.  Marissa stood behind him with one hand on his tailbone and one hand directing the dildo mounted on her harness. She felt more than slightly ridiculous. Hoping to get the unpleasantness over as soon as possible, Tyler tried to help and spread his ass-cheeks.  He had lubricated himself thoroughly.  Marissa always left that job for him.</p><p>Marissa positioned the devise and thrust once firmly.  Tyler winced in pain; she was a bit off target.  Marissa mumbled an apology and pulled back.  She repositioned herself and thrust again. This time, she was dead on target and popped his anus cleanly. He groaned involuntarily, but she was getting better.  Marissa concentrated on her job.  She worked the dildo in as far as it would go. Her hips pressed against his buttocks, she hooked her legs in front of Tyler’s to keep her seat, and ground her way to orgasm.</p><p>This wasn’t her favorite and it certainly wasn’t Tyler’s.  Her feminist therapist, though, had insisted that she use him like this regularly as part of his domestication.  In fact, she had recommended that Marissa take Tyler on his back and make him look at her while she fucked him. This way was hard enough for her.  Marissa worried that his groans and grimaces would distract her.  She worried more that she would see herself reflected in his eyes and feel even more foolish. She slipped her hand beneath her strapped-on contraption, then between his legs, and grabbed his scrotal sac firmly.</p><p>Tyler lay on his belly and simply waited for it to be over.  Someday, he wanted to meet this feminist therapist. If he did, he guessed that she would be standing back where Marissa stood and fucking him in the ass too.  At least, Marissa really seemed to like him.</p><p>In his job, he traveled with the executive team.  An accompanying male was always useful for carrying luggage and opening doors. There were other things too.</p><p>Ms. Alexis Benoite, the CEO, liked long, leisurely cunnilingus.  When it was cold outside, she even let him sleep with her in her bed.  </p><p>Jodie Gurinno liked to wake him up for a quickie in the early morning and finished sitting on his chest with his head nestled between her thighs. </p><p>He traveled with Chloe.  Chloe retuned to the hotel after one.  The morning negotiations had taken longer than planned.  She threw her briefcase to the side.  Stood still for ten full seconds for the first time that day.  “Tyler,” she said, “please be a dear and get me a glass of wine.”  She looked at her watch and shook her head.  “We really haven’t much time.”</p><p>Tyler glad to see her, walked over to the bar and took the bottle from the mini-fridge. He placed it on the counter and reached for a glass.  Before he even grasped it, Chloe was behind him.  </p><p>“I really haven’t much time, Tyler, and I need to come.” She hugged him around the shoulders and nuzzled his neck.</p><p>Tyler just stopped what he was doing and enjoyed the fragrance of her perfume, the caress of her breath on his neck, and the pressure of her warm, soft breasts against his back. Before, he knew what was happening, Chloe undid the single button on the caftan and pulled it down over his shoulder.  He stood naked in her arms, a full head taller.</p><p>Chloe thoroughly enjoyed his masculine form.  She ran her hands over his broad muscular back and over his high, tight ass.  She circled his waist and stroked the coarsely haired skin of his thighs.  She gasped his sex.  His velvety penis which grew thick and hard at her touch. Her thumb and index finger could barely contain its girth. She laughed aloud in anticipation.</p><p>Stumbling and tripping, she guided him to the bed. They fell together, arms and legs entangled.  Chloe disengaged herself quickly and stood back a step.  She reached under her miniskirt and ripped her panties free. She tossed them aside and was on him again in an instant.  Their lips met. Chloe brushed his lips with her tongue and when he replied in kind, pressed her mouth firmly against his firmly and probed his mouth with her tongue.  Tyler sighed in pleasure and his penis grew harder and thicker, still in her hand. </p><p>Using both arms and legs, Chloe shinnied up his long body like a tree and raised herself to be sitting on his chest. “I haven’t much time - really.” She said once more.  She knelt forward, then lifted his mouth to her eager sex.  Tyler knew full well what was expected.</p><p>Chloe came quickly and hard. In a second, she was standing beside the bed straightening her clothes. “Be a dear and bring me some fresh panties.”</p><p>Tyler swallowed his frustration and rolled off of the bed.  He went to the dresser and brought Chloe her panties. He handed them to her with his erection poking out arrogantly before him. Chloe took the panties in one hand and grasped his member but firmly gently in the other.</p><p>The provocative touch of her warm hand made Tyler shudder in pleasure. </p><p>Chloe saw him and wanted him again, one more time. The pressure of her hand on his shoulder told Tyler to kneel.  He licked and nuzzled the insides of her thighs first, but a pleasurable as that was, Chloe had little time and quickly directed him to the central matter. His tongue traced the creases between her outer and inner labia and circled her clitoris.  Chloe was close already.  She lifted her leg and stepped over him.  Tyler licked and sucked her sex, now he was able to access the sensitive skin between her vagina and her anus, now brazenly exposed to his liquid caresses.  Chloe was faint with pleasure. When his tongue brushed her anus, she came so hard that she almost fell.  Using Tyler for support, she was somehow able to maintain her balance. </p><p>“That was a good one, Tyler,” she said as she rearranged her clothes, checked her hair and makeup, and dashed from the apartment. “See you later!”    </p><p>Neat, precise Emma Benjamin was the most accomplished ass fucker.  With textbook precision, she always took him lying on his back.  She insisted that he look at her, that he acknowledge her, and that made it all the more personal.  Some women were distracted by the noises that their boy might make or by the variety of expressions that might flash across his faces of discomfort or even pain. Emma seemed to find his travail mildly amusing.</p><p>Tyler knew that he had to shower and purge himself after the day’s business.  Ms. Benjamin left him the responsibility to lubricate himself because she wouldn’t touch him in certain places.</p><p>He was at Ms. Benjamin’s apartment.  He lay on his back with his legs over his shoulders and held his ass cheeks spread wide apart.  Ms. Benjamin, half his weight and almost a foot shorter, stood beside the bed and fucked him with her favorite dildo with her usual proficiency.</p><p>Ms. Benjamin was a busy woman.  She had many responsibilities that wouldn’t wait and she never allowed her cellular phone out of arms’ reach. When the phone rang, she answered it promptly – always – no matter what she was doing.  Last night, she answered the damn phone and stood, with the receiver cradled between her jaw and her shoulder, and talking to an unknown associate and watching Tyler all the while with her bemused expression. Tyler just lay there with her obscene devise invading his flesh.  </p><p>Tyler felt ridiculous.  He closed his eyes, wishing that he were elsewhere, just for an instant.  It was more a gnawing discomfort than a pain. In that instant, Ms Benjamin’s amused expression fell into a disappointed frown.  She put her hand over the mouthpiece.  “Look at me, Tyler!” She said once and then said again more emphatically.  “Tyler, look at me when I fuck you.”   Then, she went right back to her conversation. <br/> Tyler watched her, but just grew bored again. She talked. She talked and talked. She frowned. She smiled. She looked pensive. She looked pleased. Then Tyler looked away, just for an instant, but even he had to admit that he did look away. She had warned him – clearly and more than once. This time she didn’t warn him. She didn’t scold him. She jabbed him sharply in the balls with her petite fist to make her point. <br/>`She made her point forcefully. He hadn’t known that she was so strong or perhaps, she wasn’t so strong at all. It really didn’t matter. Tyler writhed in agony. The pain was literally blinding – eyes closed or open, Tyler saw red. He groaned and grabbed his balls protectively. He could hardly breath and thought he might vomit. He could not escape, pinned between the mattress and Ms. Benjamin. His legs were severely flexed at the hip and he couldn’t kick. He twisted and turned to lessen the pain; his involuntary movements increased the friction of the dildo on Emma’s sex. </p><p>Emma rose to her tiptoes and arched her back. She grunted aloud as she came. Only then, she remembered her phone conversation. “Excuse me, Sarah” she apologized. “I‘m in the middle of some business here. ’scuse me, Sarah, just for a second, please,” she said breathlessly. “I’m going to put you on hold.” She pushed the ‘hold’ button and turned to Tyler. “Gawd, Tyler, that was a good one, can you move like that again?”</p><p>The room came back into focus as the pain faded. Tyler could again breath. He saw Emma smiling at him fondly. Whatever, annoyance he had caused her was forgiven. Ms. Benjamin unbuckled the dildo and went back to her conversation as if nothing had happened. Tyler kept his eyes open and watched her.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Smooth Operator: 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Exhausted but elated, Hannah returned to her room after the delivery.  Natural childbirth and especially one’s first baby had a lot in common with running a marathon.  The nurse attended to her as soon as she arrived, congratulated her and changed her ice pack.  The cold was soothing, but she didn’t look forward at all to peeing for the first time.  Eating was a different matter.  She was exhausted but she was very hungry.</p><p>Hannah’s roommate, Jennifer, hadn’t returned from her delivery yet.  Jennifer was expecting her third baby and even though Jennifer was still in her room when Hannah went to delivery, Hannah had thought that Jennifer would be all done and waiting for her by the time she delivered.  </p><p>Hannah’s mom and friends were all outside anxious to greet the new mother.  Hannah was both happy that they had come but wasn’t certain at all that she wanted them to see her all exhausted and disheveled.  She just hadn’t the energy to be social or pleasant.  She begged the nurse for a few moments of respite.</p><p>A few minutes later, a second nurse dashed in and handed Hannah her lovely newborn, newly bathed and smelling baby-sweet.  Every feature and every limb was perfect down to five tiny fingers on each little hand and five tiny toes on each little foot.  The tiny infant cuddled comfortably in her arms.  The baby’s gender was her only disappointment.  Between the baby’s legs hung the unmistakable - oversized compared to the rest of him - male apparatus.  Her firstborn was a male!</p><p>Gently, she tickled his genitals –so disproportionately large compared to his small body.  He was cute, she thought.  Well, the government wanted every woman to bear a son – her civic duty.  Now she would qualify for the birth-bounty and gain a point on her hiring priority score.  However, both Hannah and her mom had so hoped for a girl.  Was it really worth changing their lifestyle for a boy?  A baby was so much hard work - changing diapers, sleepless nights, and loss of freedom - utter reliance on undependable12-year old baby-sitters.  Should she keep him or send him to be raised at the crèche?  That was the immediate question.</p><p>Jennifer returned from delivery a few moments later.  She had had a boy too – a perfect little boy.  Her first baby had been a boy too – her second child was a girl – Mallory.  Jennifer was nowhere near as exhausted as Hannah.  She congratulated Hannah enthusiastically and made a wry face at the news that Hannah had also birthed a son.  “You know what,” she confessed, sensing Hannah’s ambivalence, “I signed over my first son to the crèche.  I was sad but it was the right thing to do.  I just took the money and ran.  I paid off my college loans and made a down payment on a new car.  This one, I think I’ll keep.  My mom’s already caring for my toddler at home, and I’m sure that Mallory will love having her own joey.  You should have seen her at the petting zoo last week playing with the baby goats and joeys.  Nine months pregnant, I just couldn’t keep up with her.  Those joeys are so cute.”  Male children were termed “joeys” while male adults were term “jacks.”</p><p>Yes, they’re so cute and then they grow up, Hannah sighed, only to succumb inevitably to testosterone poisoning. Males had once been the "Lords of Creation." They had ruled the world for millennia but they had betrayed their trust and nearly destroyed humankind with their institutionalized destructiveness. Some said that civilization itself was women's response to male physical strength and enthusiasm for violence. Ultimately, civilization itself stood on the brink of chaos and women finally banded together and found their deep-rooted strength. In the aftermath of the Revolution, women discovered that a simple reduction in male numbers had finally ended war and markedly diminished violent crime.<br/>
The challenge for the new order was to restrict male numbers in the face of the male birth fraction and women's vast sentimentality. Males might recover their lost numbers in a generation. However, strong support was readily found among the women who had picked up the reins of power, long held by men, and had quickly come to enjoy their new prerogatives. One generation of uncontrolled male survival would bring back male numbers and make the whole world hostage to the male terror and alacrity for violence once again.</p><p>Tonight, the busy nurses could only hold back the tide of humanity so long.  Agnes, Hannah’s mother was among the first. Agnes was grateful that Hannah had come through so well, but could not hide her disappointment that her first grandchild was a boy.  Better luck next time.</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Smooth Operator: 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marissa came home from work coiled more tightly than an over-wound watch coils, as if watches still had coils.  Her meticulous hair and make-up, stylish man-skin coat, and neatly tailored wool suit concealed her roiling feelings behind a facade of competency and sophistication.  She pulled her car into its parking place a little too quickly and stopped a little too abruptly.  The wheels squealed in protest as the Puma skidded to a stop.</p><p>Deep in thought, Marissa walked to the elevator. The day had been particularly unpleasant and the evening meeting much too long and even more unpleasant.  She was in no mood to face strangers.  The elevator door opened.  She was relieved when no blandly smiling faces confronted her with their unspoken expectations that she at least make a show of interest and respond pleasantly to their perfunctory greetings.  She stepped inside.  The doors closed and she pressed her floor.  She rode up and the doors opened promptly without a hitch.</p><p>Still brooding over what she should have said and probably should not have said, Marissa walked down the familiar hallway, the sound of her footsteps muffled by the thick carpeting but the echoes of the day’s conflicts still reverberated within her troubled, aching head.  Finally, she stood before her own apartment door and refuge.  She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.  She threw open the door and called, “Tyler! Tyler, I’m home.”</p><p>Tyler came out from the TV room and smiled to see his roommate.  He had gotten home a few hours earlier.  The tension was apparent in Marissa’s voice and on her face.  Perhaps, she could just relax now.  He worked with Marissa.  In fact, that was how he met her.  She was an important executive and he always thought that she worked too hard.  He was just an office boy and male companion.  Sometimes, he felt frustrated that more responsible positions were closed to him as a male –even as a male who had survived three hunts and won most of the rights of citizenship.  Tonight, he was glad he was excused from these evening meetings.  Tyler embraced her.  He wore only a thin robe.  Against his warm skin, her long man-skin coat was still cold and stiff from the outside chill.  He helped her off with her coat and hung it up carefully. Man-skin was extra-ordinarily expensive, but with proper care, very durable and long-lasting.</p><p>Fur had fallen far from favor.  Every beautiful and defenseless creature of the wild had its advocates.  However, male humans or jacks evoked much less sympathy, except for a few fringe “Save-the-Males” fanatics.   Leather made from man-skin had become the prestige material.  People for the Ethical Treatment of Males or PET’M did what could be done.  A PET’M seal assured that skins had been taken from males older than 18 years only by the most humane methods.</p><p>As he hung up Marissa’s new coat, Tyler remembered when it had consumed most of her bonus.  The purchase made Marissa very happy but Tyler very well knew the leather’s origin.  His skin crawled when he thought about it.  He tried not to think about it too often.  He had gone with the women at work to Androphone’s and seen the male carcasses roasting on spits.  He watched them consume male flesh with relish, talking and laughing.  Later, at a company barbecue he had actually eaten male flesh himself.</p><p>Marissa was happy to see him too.  Seeing him return, she knew exactly what she needed.  She threw her man-skin briefcase into a corner.  “Tyler, dear, in there!”  She smiled narrowly and pointed unmistakably toward the bedroom.  “I’ve had a terrible day and no, I don’t want to talk about it. Just get in there and take off your clothes.”</p><p> </p><p>Tyler followed her direction and gamely allowed himself to be herded into their bedroom.  Once inside, he stopped and turned to face her.  He knew that he loved her.  After he had survived his third hunt and rejoined society, she had made his life bearable in this crazy post-Patriarchal world that he understood not at all.  He still crossed the street when he passed Laura’s Market, rather than see the flayed, gutted male carcasses hanging in the display cases.  He tried to stay indoors on hunt days when jubilant hunters drove home with field-dressed male carcasses tied to their front bumpers or lying in the back of their 4x 4’s.</p><p>The bland images on TV never revealed the messy details of the Hunt. Although no one had ever made him look and no one had really wanted him to see, Tyler somehow always found a way to witness something of the aftermath of the Hunt. Even as a child or joey, and even though his birth mothers had tried to keep him indoors, he still remembered vividly the gutted jack lashed to the back of Susan Norwich's jeep. The hairiness and heavy muscles of the mature male then looked much different than his then boyish frame.</p><p>One year, Susan Hoskins brought home a magnificent stag - a male in his third Hunt. He must have weighed more than 100 kg. She ran two strong cords through his nostrils and out his mouth and hung him legs down from the side arm of the basketball hoop at the side of her driveway for everyone to see. The joeys saw him too. His head was tilted up and they couldn't really see his face. His arms hung limply at his sides and his body cavity gaped open where he had been gutted. White bone gleamed against red flesh. His sex parts were a mystery. They were simply gone. The young boys or joeys never had anything more than a glance before they were shooed away.</p><p>Once, two days after a Hunt, he saw his neighbors, Sally Preston and Julia Michaels hang a male carcass from the cross bar of little Katie's swing set, in need of room to work. They skinned and butchered him while Katie Preston rode around on her Big Wheels oblivious to everything around her. After Ms. Michaels sawed off his head, he hardly looked human at all. Twelve year-old Marissa Michaels had offered to help at the beginning but half the way through, lost interest in the proceedings and pronounced the whole business "gross" and "yucky." The women finally saw the joeys and chased them away good-naturedly.  The joeys did not need much encouragement to flee. </p><p>On the street in public now, Tyler walked proudly beside Marissa in the form-concealing caftan of the emancipated male.  He bore his three rings in his left ear proudly.  Adult males were rare, comprising less than 10% of the population.  Emancipated males wore somber-colored, long caftans like his that covered everything and brushed the ground as they walked beside their escorts.  Males generally went barefoot to redress the gender dimorphism in height.  The caftan was secured with a single clasp.  Conventionally, nothing was worn under the caftan.  Sperm counts were rising, Tyler had read, now that scrotal temperatures were now a full degree lower.</p><p>On occasion, Tyler saw a well-dressed woman in a short man-skin bolero jacket over a silk blouse and man-skin pants impatiently leading a stark naked male down the avenue.  The male was as naked as the day he was born and perhaps even more so.  Except for the hair on his head, he had been completely depilated.  His oiled skin revealed the masculine angles of his well-sculpted well-muscled torso.  The glistening gold rings that adorned his nose, nipples, navel, and sex glowed warmly in the gaslight and served to accentuate his total and complete exposure.  The ring through his glans was attached to the ring though his navel by a short gold chain.  It suspended his thick penis and exposed his ripe scrotum underneath to call attention to his gender’s vulnerability.  These males had been signed over to the government and leased to an individual.  They lived only so long as it pleased their owners.</p><p>He remembered Beatrice’s party.  Marissa and he had been the first to arrive at Beatrice’s party.  “This is Tyler!” Beatrice gushed.  “He is cute – he’s even cuter than you told me!”</p><p>Tyler blushed under his form-concealing caftan.   He wore nothing but his blush under his clothes.  Even Marissa was tickled art her friend’s compliment.</p><p>“Let me kiss him.” Beatrice asked, without making clear to whom the request was directed.  Before anyone had time to answer, she hugged Tyler, pressing her lips against his and squeezing her soft breasts against his strong chest.  She didn’t close her eyes but Tyler closed his.  The sweet floral fragrance of her hair was intoxicating and Tyler could swear that her tongue brushed his lips.  The urgency of her desire was palpable and disturbing to Tyler.  “Gawd, Marissa, I bet he’s even cuter naked.  I really want to see him naked.  Come on!”  This time Beatrice clearly directed her request to Marissa.</p><p>Beatrice was one of her oldest friends, Marissa thought, and adult males were in very short supply.  Once upon a time, a male might terrorize a score of healthy, sane women simply by threatening to expose his male parts.  Fortunately, those days were long in the past.  What would Ms. Manners say?  Most importantly, Tyler should know his place.  His masculine ego should not be encouraged. </p><p>Before Marissa could formulate a response, Beatrice’s nimble hand went to the clasp on Tyler’s caftan.  Deftly, she undid the clasp and with a quick tug, Tyler stood naked with his caftan heaped around his ankles.  “He is gorgeous!  A guy this cute doesn’t need clothes.” Beatrice said, holding him at arms’ length for a long moment for her careful inspection and then motioning for him to turn around with her finger.</p><p>Tyler didn’t know what to do.  He looked around to see who else might be looking at them.  He waited and searched Marissa’s face for some direction.  None was forthcoming.  Finally, he complied with Beatrice’s request and turned his back to them.  </p><p>Beatrice drank in the long lines of his strapping back and gently hefted his muscular buttocks.  Her graceful hand slipped between his brawny thighs and softly cradled his fat balls.  Tyler trembled.</p><p>He completed the circle and she rewarded him with another kiss.   This time, she rested her right hand on his bare left thigh.  Tyler was certain that he felt her tongue.  As she stepped back, her hand casually stroked his sex.  “He is gorgeous,” Beatrice repeated herself.  “And eminently fuckable. Let me fuck him, please”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Marissa said to gain a moment to think.  She thought that Tyler was eminently fuckable too and appreciated her friend’s say-so.  On the other hand, he was hers.</p><p>Tyler looked to Marissa, hoping that she might somehow protect him.  Tyler was undeniably in love with Marissa, but he couldn’t deny the attractiveness of other women.  That acknowledgement, however, was something clearly different from true infidelity.  Beatrice was certainly attractive enough, but he found the raw intensity of her desire and his undeniable arousal particularly unsettling.</p><p>“Well,” Marissa said, “I was planning on fucking him tonight myself when we get home.  Don’t want him to loose his edge.  I really don’t want him to cum.  Tyler, why don’t you just go down on her?  That should shut you up until dinnertime, Beatrice!”</p><p>Beatrice led Tyler into a vacant bedroom and kicked the door closed.  She lifted her skirt clear and Tyler knelt at her feet.  “Ýou know,” she called to Marissa, “ if ‘power failures’ are problem,’ prostaglandin suppositories may be the answer.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Smooth Operator: 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Today the look on Marissas’s face made Tyler a bit uncomfortable and he looked away.  Sometimes she just got that way.  He saw her back in her neatly tailored business suit in the wall mirror and himself already in his casual lounging robe.  He looked confused.  She looked determined.  He opened his mouth to say something and Marissa just pushed him back onto their bed. </p><p>She really didn’t want to talk.  She tried to open his robe and fumbled with his sash.  She made little headway and her mounting frustration was obvious.</p><p>Tyler looked at her and thought.  What might she want, now?  Suddenly he understood and untied his sash.  She threw open his robe.  He wore nothing underneath.   “Aren’t you going to get naked too?” he asked Marissa.  </p><p>Marissa threw his robe into a corner and touched her finger to her lips.  “No talking,” she cautioned him.  “Not now!”  She climbed up next to him on the bed.  Tyler tried to kiss her but she just pushed him away.</p><p>“Marissa, aren’t you going to get naked too?” Tyler asked again, plaintively.  She derailed his train of thought when she cradled his balls with one cool, soft hand and milked his cock, gently but insistently, with her other.  His body responded promptly to her unashamed and knowledgeable handling.  </p><p>He said nothing when she swung a leg over him and sat on his belly facing his feet and the tall mirror on the wall.   He closed his eyes.  He was totally absorbed in the sensations rising out of his sex.  The wool of her skirt was rough against his naked skin when she pulled her skirt out from under her bottom.  He felt the smooth silk of her panties against his belly.   The leather of her laced boot abraded his bare thighs but he was intently focused on the powerful stimulation of his sex and totally oblivious to everything else.</p><p>Marissa pressed him against her already sopping sex.  She slid the crotch of her panties out of the way, shifted her pelvis and engulfed him in one fluid motion.  She lifted her skirt and looked up into the mirror to see where they were joined. She saw his thick cock split her engorged labia to the point of ripping her open.  Her body was fully ready for him and he felt so good, so velvety, so hot, and so hard.  Marissa ran her index finger down the underside of his cock.  Tyler shuddered and almost ejaculated, but just in time, Marissa found the beginnings of his urethra at the base of his cock and pressed hard, bringing him quickly back under her control and increasing the delicious pressure on her hungry clitoris.</p><p>Genital intercourse was a rare treat in this post-Patriarchal world.  Tyler spent hours on his knees with his face pressed between a Marissa’s thighs.  Feminist therapy insisted that a woman take her male anally with a strap-on dildo regularly as a part of his domestication.  Males who were unable to reach orgasm were said to be sexually immature.  Marissa had found it awkward at first, but with practice and encouragement from her friends and therapist, she had come to enjoy it – either with Tyler bent over the edge of her bed or lying supine with his legs pull back over his chest.  </p><p>Today, she came quickly and almost violently.  Her body froze for a long moment, as she savored the orgasm ripping through her body and shooting out to her toes and fingertips.  Usually she was a thoughtful and considerate lover.  This time, she wasn’t much concerned about an orgasm for Tyler.</p><p> </p><p> “Really? Tyler asked later over dinner “You really want me to do this?  Are you sure, really sure?”</p><p>	“Well,” Marissa answered, her day at work now fully out of mind.  She had hoped that Tyler found the arguments as compelling as she had found Courtney’s, the baby broker, earlier that afternoon.  “This lady just wants to get pregnant the old fashioned, natural way.  She contacted Courtney.  You haven’t met Courtney yet, have you?  When you do, you’ll like her.  She’s an old college friend of mine.  Well, Courtney did a preliminary run on her client’s genomic profile and then matched on single nucleotide polymorphisms.  Your name just popped up – actually, you topped the list.  That’s some coincidence, really!  Well, she called and I found her message on our answering machine.  I recognized her name from college and called her back.  You don’t mind, do you?”</p><p>Tyler had had to give her power of attorney to be allowed to live in her female only condominium.  “It seems kind of weird.  You really want me to have sex with your friend’s client and get her pregnant?”</p><p>The adult male population had been restricted to less than 10%, making adult males a rather scarce commodity.  Sharing was a social imperative for those women who retained interest, but reality, openhandedness often fell short of the ideal, human nature being largely immutable.</p><p>“If you ask me, she should just get a vial from the sperm bank and you’d never be the wiser.  I really do feel a certain ownership of your cute little ass.  I’ve thought about it all day, though.  This way, you’ll do a good deed and earn us a thousand dollars for our vacation fund.  Think about it and don’t be afraid.  I’ll be there to hold you hand – or anything else that needs encouragement “</p><p>	“I’m really still not totally sure about this,” said Tyler uncertainly.</p><p>	Marissa offered him an indulgent smile, as if his opinion really mattered.  She had made up her mind.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Smooth Operator: 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He said the same thing a week later when Marissa fastened the blindfold. He repeated himself a again when Courtney cuffed his wrists behind his back.  He was naked and just out of the shower. Everything was just routine, they assured him repeatedly.</p>
<p>	“That’s the standard contract, honey,” said Courtney kindly.  “My client fears harassment.”  Courtney’s client did not want the embarrassment should the male to recognize her on the street.  Given male size, strength, and alacrity for violence, she wanted standard precautions taken that would guarantee her safety and that of her friends.  Even Marissa kept a set of restraints at home for Tyler.  He had to wear them one night a month for practice.  It was just common sense and a condominium rule.</p>
<p>	Tyler still looked doubtful but he wasn’t very comfortable in pursuing his vague reservations against a woman’s clear-spoken authority.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry, Tyler,” said Courtney.  You passed the medical exam, you’ve got a great body.  My client just insists that you be restrained.  She’s afraid that you might do something stupid and try to kiss her or something.  Marissa and I will both be there to make sure that no one hurts you.  You haven’t ejaculated in two days – right?  I want to make sure that you’ll deliver your payload.  He hasn’t ejaculated, right, has he Marissa?” Courtney asked, looking at Marissa.  “Tyler, you’ve washed carefully –everywhere?”</p>
<p>	“Hey, Courtney, no lie!  He really is cute!” an unfamiliar voice exclaimed.  This was Hannah, Courtney’s client.</p>
<p>	“Have I ever lied to you?” Courtney asked in feigned disbelief.</p>
<p>	“Look at his tight ass!” marveled another voice.  “He looks like an add for Laura’s Market.”  This was Emily, Hannah’s second.  Laura’s Market was the foremost purveyor of jacques or male flesh in Steinham, California.  Laura’s sold only the best.</p>
<p>Government policy limited adult males to less than 10% of the population.  Tyler’s mother had refused to consign him to a government ranch for eventual slaughter despite the substantial bounty and somehow or other, Tyler had survived three hunts to win most of the rights of citizenships.</p>
<p>Tyler detected an unfamiliar perfume and felt a soft, unfamiliar hand on his ass.  A second hand gently stroked his cock.  “He looks a bit like that jack Mary shot last year.”  She touched his privates.  “Imagine, males terrorized the world for millennia with these things.”  She touched him.  “Is this how you do it?”  She yanked on his penis strongly and his body responded promptly, even to her rough handling.</p>
<p>	“Yep! Look at him, Emily!” worried the Hannah.  “He’d tear me in two!”  The others all laughed.</p>
<p>	“Relax, Hannah.  He’s really just average size,” Courtney reassured her.  “He’ll fit in just fine.  They always do.”</p>
<p>	“Gawd, Marissa.  “How do you get that whopper in your mouth?” asked Hannah.  “You could choke or even dislocate your jaw - gawd!”</p>
<p>	“Or maybe drown, when he spurts in your mouth” interjected her friend Emily before Marissa could respond.  “What if he pissed instead?  Has he ever made a mistake?”  Emily was sincerely curious that an attractive, apparently intelligent woman like Marissia should choose to live with a male.  Marissa did not look like one of those dissolute stag hags.  A dog or a cat would be a much more agreeable pet.  Intimate relations with livestock were not to her taste.  She had shared her thoughts with Hannah many times but Hannah was determined to get a baby in the old-fashioned way.</p>
<p>	Marissa chose to smile and not to dignify their silly questions with an answer.  At the end of the evening, Tyler would be coming home with her tonight.  Many women tended to disguise their undeniable penis envy in some sort of politically correct language.  There was nothing that these people could do to him that a shower wouldn’t fix.  She wouldn’t let them.  His penis belonged to her.</p>
<p>	“Well, let’s get stated,” said Hannah.  “The sooner we start, the sooner we finish.”</p>
<p>	“It might go better if he goes down on you first,” suggested Courtney. “You’ll get used to each other.”</p>
<p>	“Are you sure you want to go through with this, Hannah?” asked Emily.  “We can still get a vial of sperm and a syringe from the bank.  And Courtney, you’re absolutely certain he’s clean?”</p>
<p>Hannah prepared herself and nodded, go ahead.  She shifted her robe out of the way.</p>
<p>Tyler knelt awkwardly before her.  Blindfolded with wrists cuffed behind his back, his lips made self-conscious contact with her belly.  Hannah’s petite hands guided his mouth firmly to where she wanted him.  Tyler’s tongue ran the furrow between her thigh and vulva, then filled the narrow grooves between her outer and inner lips.  Her pelvis pressed into his face and he wondered what she might look like; what color her hair might be.  His tongue slipped between her inner lips and circled his clit, just like Marissa enjoyed.  She moaned aloud with pleasure.</p>
<p>	“Is he as good as I am?” asked Emily, suddenly a bit less confident, if no less strident.</p>
<p>	Hannah didn’t really want to talk right now.  She fought to control the waves of pleasure rolling up from her pelvis.  Steadying herself on Tyler’s strong broad shoulders, she lifted her left leg over his back and increased the contract between Tyler’s face and her sex.  She closed her eyes for a second, awash in the sensation.  Then, she opened them again, gasping for breath, and looked desperately at Emily, Marissa, and Courtney.  All were staring at her intently, but she really didn’t care. The throbbing pleasure rising from her sex threatened to overwhelm her focus.  Awareness of everything else faded until self-doubt emerged.   “I must look just like one of those stag hags on 3DV,” she quipped as she fought to maintain command. </p>
<p>	When Hannah said, “stag hag,” Emily glanced quickly at Marissa and quickly looked away.  Marissa noticed her glance and tried to ignore her.  Marissa actually lived with a male and well that made her vulnerable to the suspicion at least that she might be one of those dicky-whipped stag hags, who sold out their female friends and financial assets in the hopeless effort to please a conniving avaricious male.</p>
<p>	“Emily, you know, dear, that I love you.  He’s really not anywhere as good as you are but my pussy seems to like him anyway.” Hannah confessed to Emily as Marissa and Courtney secured Tyler to the bed.  “But, you know, he is pretty darned good.  You just shouldn’t get complacent – I could ‘cum’ to like this.”  She flashed her most mischievous smile. “Get it, ‘cum?’”</p>
<p>	Once Tyler was secured, Hannah straddled him, facing his feet.  She pressed his engorged cock against her belly and looked at herself in the mirror that faced the foot of the bed.  She was still uncertain of his girth and hesitated.  </p>
<p>	“Have you had a male before?” Courtney asked.</p>
<p>	Hannah shook her head, no and made a face. “No, but Emily and I went to the doctor and Emily clipped my hymen – I didn’t want any male to think that – what is it – that he ‘took my virginity.’   We took it ourselves.”  She adjusted her robe and rubbed his cock against her vulva for a minute or so.  “Here we go,” she sighed, then lifted her bottom and tilted her pelvis, the glans of his cock was securely ensconced in her introitus.  Hannah felt herself soften and he slipped inside, until his scrotum was flush with her labia.  The hem of her short robe rested on his thighs.</p>
<p>A groan escaped Tyler’s lips, but no one was paying him much mind.</p>
<p>Hannah looked up to see their joining in the mirror.  She looked down to examine it more closely.  “We fit, Emily, look, we really fit – like Mother Nature intended.  That’s what the PET’M – People for the Ethical Treatment of Males – claim.”  She pressed her thighs together and relished the thickness of him, then reached down and felt where he slipped into her.  She reached lower and cradled his fat balls gently.  “Okay, Tyler,” she said, “Give me my sperm. You can come now.  I paid for it.  Okay, make me a mommy!”</p>
<p>	“No, no!” Courtney laughed.  “He doesn’t work like that.” Marissa snickered.</p>
<p>	“What do I have to do?  Do you want me to tell him that I love him?”  Hannah asked, suddenly confused.</p>
<p>	Emily didn’t know what to say.</p>
<p>“Rock your hips,” Marissa suggested.</p>
<p>Awkwardly, Hannah rocked her hips twice, experimentally.  “Like this?”  Hannah asked.</p>
<p>Marissa shook her head.  “It’s like riding a bicycle!  Do it once and you’ll never forget.”  She wasn’t quite sure what to suggest next.</p>
<p>	Courtney, the baby broker, came to the rescue.  “Hannah, calm down and listen to me.  Take your fingers and press against the underside of his cock.”</p>
<p>	“Like this?” Hannah asked.</p>
<p>	“Right.  Now, press very gently – that’s right - make small circles.”  Hannah tried.  Courtney smiled.  “That’s right!”</p>
<p>	In less than a minute, Emily noted with excitement.  “Look, his balls are pulling up into his sac.”</p>
<p>	Tyler’s skin flushed.</p>
<p>	“I can feel some sort of tube twitching.” Hannah said as Tyler moaned.  “Wow, I felt something explode past my fingers.</p>
<p>	“That’s it!  He ejaculated,” announced Courtney.</p>
<p>	“Come on, Tyler!  Make me a mommy!”  Hannah closed her eyes and wished fervently.  She held still for a moment.  She squeezed his ball sac firmly.  “You’ re not holding out on me, are you Tyler?  Do you think that I’ve got it all?” she asked Courtney as she squeezed again.  Tyler groaned, this time in pain.  He pulled vainly against his restraints.</p>
<p>	“Come on, Hannah, don’t hurt him, cautioned Marissa, less enthusiastic than when she had first urged Tyler to cooperate in this matter.</p>
<p>	Hannah stood up and noted the liquefying ejaculate running down her leg.  “Can someone hand me a towel or something.”  She put her hand to her groin to stop the dribbling.”  Now she worried that she might soil her robe.</p>
<p>	Marissa went in for a towel.  </p>
<p>“Wait,” Courtney suggested.  “You chance of pregnancy is better if you have an orgasm.  Emily can go down on you and add her contribution.</p>
<p>Emily wrinkled her nose at the thought of the messy task set for her.  She had another idea.  “It’s his mess and let him help,” she suggested. Hannah was a quick study.  She straddled Tyler’s head and pulled his face into her sex.  Tyler, though blindfolded, knew what was expected. He cleaned her with his mouth and tongue.</p>
<p>Hannah wasn’t sure if he could do the job for her.  She closed her eyes and focused on the feel of his tongue against her sex.  After several minutes, she shuddered and came.  A small sigh escaped her lips.  Her pussy wasn’t as particular as she had feared.  Hannah dismounted unsteadily. </p>
<p>“Look!” Emily teased.  “Hannah’s turning into a dicky-whipped stag hag!  I’ll run out and buy her a ‘Save-the- Males’ tee shirt.”</p>
<p>Hannah grimaced at the rude comments.  Perhaps Emily was a bit jealous.  She looked up at Emily and glared a challenge.  He really had been a good sport.  He had done everything she had asked.  She wondered if his face behind the blindfold looked like his photos.  She fondled Tyler’s wet shrinking sex gently.  She rubbed the stickiness between her fingers.  She fingered the sensitive place between his balls and anus.  Then she stroked his anus lightly.  Tyler shuddered.  Defiantly, she bent and kissed Tyler on the forehead.  She was as liberal as anyone.  She wondered if it had been as unpleasant for him as it had for her.  “Is there somewhere where I can wash my hands and take a shower?”  She looked at her robe and was pleased that she had remembered to bring a change of clothes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Smooth Operator: 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marissa invited Courtney home for a drink after Emily and Hannah had left.  Tyler showered while the women shared a glass of wine.  When Tyler emerged from the shower, Marissa had that glint in her eye. Courtney just watched the two of them, her eyes smiling.  Tyler was a handsome stud.  She’d like to be his agent.  She could find him plenty of sex -work.  The evening had been a success.  Should Hannah conceive, the contract was completed.  Otherwise, they’d have to do it again.</p><p>“Tyler, you’re way behind us.”  Courtney said and handed him a glass of wine.  He drank it quickly and then Courtney handed him another.</p><p>Abruptly, Marissa pulled the towel from him.  “Speaking of his behind,” she said, feeling aroused after the evening’s activities and quite pleased with her wit. She pushed, pulled and dragged him dripping to the bedroom. He resisted playfully, but Marrissa would not be denied.  Though only half his size, she shoved him hard and he fell prone across the bed.  She invited Courtney to join them with a casual wave of her hand.  Courtney needed little encouragement.</p><p>Before he could recover, Marissa lay over him.  She nuzzled his ear and neck.  He drowned in her hair.  Her perfume wafted over him as her hands danced knowingly over his body. She whispered, “You’re mine, Tyler, just mine.  You know that whatever that damned, motherless Hannah and her cunt-sucking, stuck-up friend Emily say.”  She knew exactly how to excite him.</p><p>However, her intent was more than simply to excite him. He felt her hand on his cock, balls, and ass.  Suddenly, he jerked as she pressed a cold glob of lubricant on his warm skin but he did not dislodge her from her position.  She didn’t want sloppy seconds on his cock.  She knew exactly where his mouth had been and mouthwash did not erase that knowledge completely.  He was hers and every bit of him. </p><p>He lay unresisting as she slipped from him.  Standing between his legs, she aligned his hips on the edge of her bed precisely so that his ample genital hung in the air and did not touch her bedclothes.   She hated when he spurted and soiled her beddings.  With no warning and few preliminaries, she secured her dildo to its harness and thrust it inside him.  Her hunger could no longer be denied.  Tyler was hers and she wanted him and the world to know it.  She licked at his neck and muttered endearments as she ground her way to several orgasms. Tyler was hers and he would never forget it.  She wouldn’t let him.</p><p>Her skin was flushed.  Her heart pounded and her breath heaved in her chest.  Her hair was limp with sweat.  She was satiated down to her toes and fingertips.  Exhausted, she pushed away from him but her sweaty skin stuck to his.  Marissa stood unsteadily, her eyes closed.  She took several slow, deep breaths.  After a long moment, she opened her eyes and smiled.  She patted Tyler on his butt. He had a great ass and his ass was hers. Perhaps she just was a stag-hag after all.</p><p>“Hey,” said Courtney, “Can I have a turn?  You can watch just so much sex in one day without getting the hankering yourself.” She had already pulled on a harness over her panties and mounted a dildo from Marissa’s collection.</p><p>“Go ahead,” Marissa replied.  “No problem, Tyler? Okay?”</p><p>Courtney positioned, the nubbin of the dildo precisely.  She did not wait for any answer before she thrust her dildo into him. A good man was so hard to find.  A hard man is always good to find.   Marissa went to freshen their drinks.</p><p>Tyler sat uncomfortably at work the next day.  Marissa was glowing and looked forward to meeting Courtney after work at L’Apone Leathers to check out their new leather sale.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Smooth Operator: 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jennifer’s mother was close behind.  She a brought a large pot filled with her family’s traditional recipe for new mothers – more than enough to share.  The ragout delicious and when she learned, Hannah simply couldn’t believe what she had eaten.</p><p>“First, I drop the string of wankers in a bowl of cold water and lemon juice to soak.  Second, I fill a saucepan half full of water and add a fair bit of salt and a dollop of lemon juice.  Then I place the pan on a high flame and turn my attention to the wankers on my string.”  </p><p>Hannah listened intently.  Her own mom hadn’t a touch of culinary skill.</p><p>“With a sharp paring knife, I free each cock from its ball sack. Then, I tent the delicate skin on the underside of the barrel and slipped the thin point of my very sharpest knife beneath and slit the skin up to the end of the foreskin. Using my fingers and the dull side of knife, I strip away the skin until the glans and inner structures lay bloody and bare.  Once the four cocks are skinned, I rinse them off again and dump them into the boiling water. While they scald for a few minutes, I heat up some olive oil in a fry pain and dice an onion.  Once the onion is sizzling on the fire, I remove the flayed cocks from the boiling water and gingerly dump them into a colander in the sink.  I rinse them with cold water until they are cool enough to touch safely and then dry them with a paper towel.  I lay them out on my cutting board in a straight row, sharpen my carving knife, and then make a series of precise ½ centimeter slices.  Once they are sliced, I add them to the sautéing onion and sprinkle them with a few turns of freshly ground pepper and a dash of salt. Stirring the fry pan from time to time, I chopped up a pair of ripe tomatoes and added them to the pan together with a splash of balsamic vinegar and a pinch of cinnamon.  At the end, I throw in a handful of golden raisins. Wallah!”</p><p>	Hannah had never eaten anything like this before.   She had certainly had parboiled cock, sliced, breaded, and fried with lemon juice, but too often it was rubbery and chewy. This was melt-in-your mouth tender and delicious.  Her adventure had begun with a wanker and it seemed fitting that it ended with a wanker too.  </p><p>	“Did you pick out a name for yours?” Hannah asked Jennifer.  </p><p>	“Yes, Mikey,” Jennifer answered.  “Mallory and Mikey.  What about you?”</p><p>	“Well,” Hannah began and then hesitated.  “I’m going to sign mine over in the morning.  He’s sure cute – just like his father.  I remember the night I got him – the old-fashioned way.  I’ll call him Tyler, I think, just like his dad.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Halloween</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m only going to a Halloween party,” Tyler explained to the image staring back at him in the full-length mirror.  “Everyone else will be in costume too. ”  He studied himself carefully.  Not bad.  He was a well-made man.  Marissa and many others had told him so.  “Man” was a word one didn’t hear very often.  However, he just could not suppress his nagging doubts about himself and Marissa’s clever plan.  </p><p>Marissa looked indisputably great in her costume.  She hardly required comment.  Marissa always looked great.  Her large brown eyes glowed in eager anticipation of Victoria’s yearly Halloween party.  She was dressed as a wrangler – a jack-wrangler – a hired-hand on a ranch that raised jacks – human males - for slaughter.  A brightly colored baseball cap perched on her head at a jaunty angle and crowned her lovely face.  Her full breasts pressed softly against her ironic People for the Ethical Treatment of Males (PET’M) tee shirt, that so many real-life wranglers affected.  A broad stripe of her tanned, softly rounded tummy poked out between her tee shirt and her heavy leather jack-skin belt.  Her cute navel pouted provocatively.  She wore her oldest, most battered pair of ragged jeans, low on her slim hips.  She wore her very best leather boots. Wranglers prided themselves on their leather goods and wore expensive belts and boots in contrast with their otherwise more worn and humble attire. </p><p>Tyler was especially proud because he had polished her boots himself.  However, when he thought that the fine leather had been fashioned from the skin of a male much like himself, he felt his testicles rise in his scrotum and the stomach acid rise into his throat.  He knew of the horrors of the Patriarchal Age.  He understood why the male population had to be severely limited.  He was certainly no paint-throwing “Save-the-Males” radical, but he found an easy visceral agreement with much of PET’M’s more conservative agenda.</p><p>City people thought the wrangler a romantic figure.  Little girls loved to dress up like wranglers.  In good weather, they played wranglers and jacks out of doors.  They played with their ranch sets indoors on rainy afternoons.  Marissa’s mother had shown him Marissa’s beat-up set.  Someone had bitten the little pricks off of all the plastic jacks.  However, he doubted that the day-to-day gritty business of raising human males for slaughter was particularly attractive.  He wondered if real-life wranglers ever became attached to their charges and regretted shipping them off for slaughter.</p><p>Tyler had never been on a ranch but he looked at things from a distinctly different point of view.  Many families voluntarily consigned their male offspring to a ranch at three years of age received a generous government bonus.  Ranch males were fed and exercised until they passed their eighteenth birthday and they were slaughtered for their meat and skins. They were certainly spared the cruel terror of the hunt.    He wondered if they knew their ultimate fate.  If someone actually told them, would they really believe what they were told?</p><p>Despite his facile rationalization, Tyler still felt terribly self-conscious about his costume.  Marissa was the wrangler and he was the jack.  A heavy brass ring rested heavily on his upper lip.  Marissa had insisted that he replace his fashionable gold nose ring with a thicker, more authentic, bronze jack ring.  Other than that, he was stark naked except for the three earrings in his left ear.  Ranch jacks never earned earrings.  Tyler had won his three cherished earrings by surviving three Hunts in the summers of his nineteenth, twentieth, and twenty-first years and with them, most of the rights of citizenship and a fate much different than that that confronted a ranch male.  He would never remove his earrings.</p><p>Marissa pulled her dark brown hair back in a neat ponytail back through the back of her pert baseball cap.  She laughed gently at Tyler’s palpable ambivalence.  She was truly fond of him.  Four years before, Tyler had survived his third and final hunt and won most the rights of citizenship.  Not one male in twenty avoided the ranches and survived the hunts.  She and Tyler had shared much happiness in that time.  Few women had a live-in boyfriend.  “Tyler, You look simply scrumptious!” she told him grinning at her wit. </p><p>Tyler wished that Marissa had chosen a different word than “scrumptious.”  Whether slain in the hunt or at a slaughterhouse, he knew that most males ended up butchered and eaten.  His gnawing disquiet was evident both in his facial expression and in his posture.</p><p>“Really now, would I be seen with you otherwise?”  she asked.  She was truly fond of him.  With her in her high-heeled boots and him barefoot, she was almost as tall as he.  “Tyler, stand up straight.  You’ve got a really great body and no reason to be ashamed and hide it.  You should be proud.”</p><p>At the party, Tyler might be one of only two or three males among a gaggle of women.  He wasn’t exactly ashamed but he didn’t feel exactly proud to display himself stark naked in public.  However, jacks never wore clothes on a ranch and he was in authentic costume after all.  He was the jack and Marissa was the wrangler.  Once upon a time, a male might intimidate a dozen healthy adult women, simply by threatening to expose his male paraphernalia.  That time was safely in the past,  </p><p>“Turn around and let me see.  Gawd, Tyler, I love your ass.  You look really great.”</p><p>Tyler took immense pleasure in Marissa’s approval.  Her warm hand stroked his bare buttock and made it hard to worry.</p><p>“Do you know what Victoria’s offered as a prize for the costume contest?”</p><p>No one told Tyler much of anything.  He was always the last to learn. He shook his head, no.</p><p>“Well, the winner will be able to fuck anyone she wants.  You might have a busy evening, win or lose.”  </p><p>“Wait,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand.  We almost forgot something!  Yes!  On a ranch, jacks are branded.  Let me get my lipstick.  I think that an “M” for Marissa would just about be right.”</p><p>The drive to Victoria’s high-rise passed without incident.  Marissa drove, of course.   Male citizens could drive, but the penalties for traffic violations and accidents were unthinkable.  Riding in the elevator, Tyler’s anxiety mounted again as the elevator climbed.  He had noted more than few obvious stares on their way to Victoria’s apartment.</p><p>“Relax, Tyler” said Marissa.  “I bet you’ll win the prize.  Victoria says that we won’t believe Charlene’s costume.  It cost her a fortune.”  </p><p>Tyler found relaxation particularly difficult when he stood stark naked in an elevator with all his privates hanging out in public.</p><p>Amanda in her flowing sheik’s get-up opened the door on a noisy room populated by people in all manner of bright and colorful costumes.  She greeted them with a warm smile. “Hey, Marissa.  You look great!  And Tyler, you’re just beautiful – like always.”  She kissed Tyler neatly on the cheek while her warm hand rested briefly on his bare hip.</p><p>Tyler smiled and grabbed Amanda’s wrist, gently but firmly.  Cassie, Haley, and Kathy gathered round and greeted the couple.  Seeking quick relief, Tyler quickly downed one white wine and then another, seeking the mind-numbing buzz. He scanned the room for someone familiar, while Marissa chatted merrily with her friends and acquaintances.  The music was loud and lively.  There, far in the back, he saw a flash of bare skin, maybe other poor male whom someone convinced to attend the costume party stark naked.  Tyler sighed in relief.  At least he wasn’t the only idiot of the male persuasion – this time.</p><p>His hand sweating, Tyler dropped Marissa’s hand and pushed bravely past a clown and a ballet dancer.  He passed the buffet table where a large smoked homme – the cured and smoked upper leg of some poor male - occupied the place of honor surrounded by baskets of rolls, bowls of salads, and trays of appetizers.  A cluster of women gathered around the table, laughing and talking while eagerly awaiting a turn to carve a slice of the delicious meat.  </p><p>Even Tyler was tempted.  Ever since the summer party he had come to enjoy jacques as much as anyone.  He grabbed a third wine and kept pressing toward his goal.</p><p>Out of the blue, Victoria blocked his way.  Whenever he saw her now, he remembered his first party at her house and his rectal sphincter twitched.  Although details were clouded in a drug and alcohol- induced haze and softened somewhat by time, what recollections remained were still unpleasant.  Still, that had been the special night when he had hooked up with Marissa.  </p><p>“Tyler, hey!  You look so ab-so-lute-ly fabulous!”  Victoria embraced him with one arm and slid the other between his thighs.  She rubbed his exposed genitals gently.  “Happy to see me?”  She sighed.  “You’ve got a really great body, but it still takes a lot of self confidence to show it all.  Think you’ll have time for me later?  We’ve had such good times!”</p><p>Tyler couldn’t remember once when he had enjoyed Victoria’s company.  Being the one male among 20 women was often quite difficult.  Tyler had his stratagems, tired and true.  “There’s Marissa?” Tyler said and pointed.  When Victoria looked, Tyler shed her arm smoothly and slipped quickly away.  He continued on his hunt for the other male.  Tyler much looked forward to talking with someone else who peed standing up.</p><p>Naked as Tyler and apparently unconcerned, the fellow held court in the corner, trapped behind three or four women, gathered like honeybees around a flower.  Tyler didn’t recognize him at all.  He was young and slight.  His nose bore the same heavy ring as Tyler.  Tyler looked to see his earrings but his ears were unadorned.  The fellow had yet to survive a single hunt!</p><p>His ass was branded too.  Where Tyler’s brand was drawn on with magic marker.  This brand looked more authentic.  The mark was raised where it had scarred.  Tyler snorted in derision to see the way he fondled his genitals in public, right in front of everyone.  Tyler had been taught early not to touch himself in public.</p><p>“Hey!” Tyler said in greeting.</p><p>The other looked up and smiled.  “Hey, Tyler,” came a husky reply.  Tyler sensed something familiar about the voice.  Nothing else was familiar.  Tyler studied his boyish face.  His facial hair was absent and something about his features seemed too fine.  He looked like he had never shaved even once in his life!  He apparently knew Tyler, but Tyler didn’t know him.</p><p>“Tyler, this is Ashley, Jena, Emma, and Megan.”</p><p>“Hey, Tyler,” said Ashley a blonde.  The poor fellow seemed suddenly forgotten as all attention turned to Tyler.</p><p>“Hey, Tyler,” said Jena.  “You’re a pretty one.”</p><p>“Hey, I’m Emma,” said Emma cheerfully.  “Back-off girls.  I hear he belongs to Marissa.”</p><p>“Hey, I’m hungry.  Are there any hors d'oeuvres,” asked Megan, changing the subject abruptly.</p><p>Ashley wasn’t quite ready to change topics.  “Gawd, Tyler.  You’ve got a great body.  Look at your pecs – look at your lats,” she concluded almost in awe.  Her warm hand stroked his side.</p><p>“Look at his ass,” added Jena.  Tyler felt her carefully manicured hand on his bottom.</p><p>Suddenly, Tyler felt badly for the other fellow who elicited nothing like the interest he evoked.</p><p>Megan was still hungry.  “Looked at his haunch.  Look at his saddle.  I’m so hungry.  Tyler, did you ever think where you’d dress out?”  She smiled broadly.</p><p>Tyler was confused. “What?  Dress out?”  Each woman wore her own perfume and the combination of scents, three wines, the loud music, and cacophony of female voices made it hard for Tyler to think.</p><p>Megan looked at him and then at the others.  She shrugged her shoulders and grimaced.  Male intelligence was a famous oxymoron.</p><p>Emma tried to help.  “Did Marissa ever get an estimate how you’d dress out?</p><p>This still didn’t help.</p><p>“Dress out?” added Jena.  “How much do you think that you’d weigh bled and gutted?  I bet you’d yield fifty kilos of prime jacques.”</p><p>“Do you know what jacques is selling for at Laura’s?” asked Megan. “Too few males are being sent to the ranches.  Too many hunters just can’t shoot straight.”  </p><p>Tyler was taken aback.</p><p>“You know,” Ashley added, “I’m not sure this is a good topic for mixed company.”</p><p>Megan spotted someone bearing a tray of appetizers.  Already famished, the prospect of food made her ravenous.  “What do you think it is?”</p><p>Remembering Megan’s widely know aversion, Jena answered wickedly, “Fish.”</p><p>“No!” Megan groaned.  “Not fish!  You can’t be serious.  I hate fish and all those creepy crawly ocean things.”</p><p>“Seriously, I heard Victoria’s serving fish.  So many people just don’t eat red meat these days.”  Jena added, struggling to keep a straight face.  Everyone knew Megan’s visceral loathing for seafood.</p><p>“No.  You’re kidding.  Fish pee in the ocean.  Whales fart in the ocean.   Oysters and clams fuck in the ocean.”  Megan sniffed the air and tasted the aroma.  Slimy, smelly fish and all the creepy crawly things that inhabit the ocean made her itch.  She shuddered.</p><p>Victoria was such a great hostess.  She was nothing if not hospitable.  The jalapeno poppers hit the spot.  </p><p>“Not fish,” concluded Megan with relief.</p><p>So did the chiliquitos.  </p><p>“Again, not fish,” concluded Megan with increasing confidence.  Unfortunately, the tasteful but tiny offerings inflamed rather than quenched Megan’s substantial appetite.</p><p>However, the next tray, piled high with deep fried, breaded rings gave Megan pause.  The mere thought of fish was usually enough to quash her appetite.  Jena’s taunting had made her mistrustful.  “Is that what I think it is,” she asked the server, suspiciously.</p><p>The open-faced girl smiled uncertainly.  She simply didn’t know the guest’s issue.  She smiled guilelessly.  “Try it, you’ll really like it.”</p><p>“Here,” Emma offered generously, “I’ll try it first.”  She grabbed a napkin and pincered a figure-of-eight shaped ring between her thumb and forefinger, then popped it in her mouth.  “Mmm, still hot!   Crispy batter – not too greasy.  A touch of lemon.  Delicious and not too chewy.”  She spoke with her mouth full while Megan studied her every expression.  “Tyler, you try one too.”  She offered a ring to the other male.  Tyler thought she called him Charley.</p><p>“You don’t think it’s…” Megan asked uncertainly.  Even the sight of seafood was repulsive to her.</p><p>“Calamari?”  Ashley nodded slowly.  Tyler held the figure of eight ring in his fingers and guessed it was calamari too.</p><p>“It’s not calamari, if that what you’re worried about,” snorted Charley.  “See each piece is a figure-of-eight.  Calamari rings are circles.  These are figures-of-eight.</p><p>“It’s cock, not calamari.  Thank God!” sighed Megan after she found the courage to place a figure-of-eight ring in her mouth.  Growing up, she had watched her granny prepare cock-rings.  Cock was the cheapest cut of jacques but her mother had found it too much bother.  The raw cocks from the butcher were larger than one might think.  Only about two-third of the organ stuck out.  One third was the inside part.  First, you stripped the skin from the outside part, then you had to carefully remove the pee tube – the urethra – from the under side, leaving the two fibrous sacs side by side.  Soaked in lemon juice and sliced thinly, one might make a spicy ragout or just bread and fry them like today.  They were really best when served hot.  Overcooked, they became really chewy.</p><p>Tyler already had the cock-ring in his mouth.  He tasted only the crispy breading.  He gagged and thought he might vomit.  He felt his testicles rise in his scrotum.  He wanted to spit but he didn’t want to make a scene.</p><p>“See that fat piece there.  That’s the glans, my favorite part,” added Charley.</p><p>Tyler wretched again.  He needed a distraction.  </p><p>Just then Haley called,  “Everyone come over here for the costume judging.”  Finally, Tyler had his diversion, but it was too late.  By then he had swallowed the damned ring.  He had to admit that it hadn’t actually tasted too bad.  He just didn’t want to think about from where it had come.</p><p>“This is a tough decision,” Haley said after distributing any number of joke prizes.  She studied the two jacks, side by side.  Tyler was quite a bit taller and bulkier.  “Boys, turn around, please.”  The two turned.  “Well, Tyler’s body is better but his brand is drawn.  Tyler’s earrings are all wrong.”</p><p>Tyler looked at the costumed women.  They were now hooting and hollering.  Tyler looked at the other male and saw that he now sported a rampant erection.</p><p>“Okay, I’ve got it,” Haley began carefully.  She had had some experience with jacks working on a ranch herself.  “The winner is….”  She grabbed Charley’s hand but glanced quickly at Tyler.  “The decision was hard.”  </p><p>Tyler studied Charley carefully.  His brand looked so real.  Charley was clipped.  Circumcision facilitated hygiene on the ranch.</p><p>“Well, Tyler,” offered Victoria. “I guess you’re not the ‘man’ you thought you were.”  She used the word man,” a term now rarely heard outside of history courses.  “You came in second to Charlene.</p><p>“Great try, Tyler,” said the grinning winner.  A higher pitched female voice replaced the husky faux male voice.  “Be a gentleman – is that the word, right?  Help me off with this headpiece.”</p><p>Tyler lifted the headpiece from her shoulders.  Charlene had been looking out the creature’s half-opened mouth.</p><p>Charlene shook her head to free her hair.  Without the headpiece, which had plastered her short hair against her head, she was several inches shorter.  The costume was hot and sweaty but a triumphant smile illuminated her face.  “Can someone bring me some of those cock rings?  I couldn’t eat anything with that damned headpiece.  I’m famished.”  Charlene’s petite, feminine head poked out of her genuine jack skin costume.  She finished off a handful of cock rings and licked her lips.  She took a quick swallow of wine.  “Tyler, honey, don’t go too far away.  Time to collect my prize.  I think I might enjoy a tongue bath.  And then, you know, I think having a penis of my own might be fun.”</p><p>Even Marissa laughed.</p>
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